THE 


S  WAYNE 


omia 
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THE  BLUE  GERM 

MARTIN   SWAYNE 


CNIV.  W  CALIF.  LIBRARY.  LOS  A19GCLK9 


THE  BLUE  GERM 

BY 

MARTIN  SWAYNE 

Author  of  "The  Sporting  Instinct," 
"In  Mesopotamia,"  etc. 


NEW  XHJT  YORK 
GEORGE  H.   DORAN  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1918, 
By  George  H.  Doran  Company 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


TO 

J.  E.  H.  W. 


2133411 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTEE  PAGtf 

I.  BLACK  MAGIC          .......  11 

ii.  SARAKOFF'S  MANIFESTO   .....  15 

III.  THE    BUTTERFLIES        ......  24 

IV.  THE  SIX  TUBES       .......  31 

V.  THE  GREAT  AQUEDUCT       .....  39 

VI.  THE  ATTITUDE  OF  MR.  THORNDUCK    .         .  42 

VII.  LEONORA            ........  49 

Vni.  THE  BLUE  DISEASE       ......  67 

IX.  THE   MAN    FROM   BIRMINGHAM        ...  76 

X.  THE  ILLNESS  OF  MR.  ANNOT    ....  88 

XI.  THE    RESURRECTION     ......  99 

xii.  MR.  CLUTTERBUCK'S  OPINION     .      .      .  110 

XIII.  THE  DEAD  IMMORTAL     .....  119 

XIV.  FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  OF  IMMORTALITY     .  132 
XV.  THE  TERRIBLE  FEAR  ......  141 

XVI.  THE  VISIT  OF  THE  HOME  SECRETARY      .  153 

XVH.  CLUTTERBUCK'S   ODD  BEHAVIOUR      .      .  165 

XVIII.  IMMORTAL  LOVE  .......  170 

XIX.  THE  MEETING  AT  THE  QUEEN*S  HALL     .  186 

XX.  THE  WAY  BACK    .......  197 

XXI.  JASON       .........  205 

vii 


vm 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTBB 

xxn. 


PAQK 


THE  FIRST  MURDERS 215 

XXIII.  AT    DOWNING    STREET 225 

XXIV.  NIGHT  OF  AN  IMMORTAL 233 

XXV.       OUR  FLIGHT 238 

xxvi.  ON  THE  SPANIARD'S  WALK     ....  24-5 

xxvn.     LEONORA'S  VOICE 254 

XXVm.       THE  KILLING  OF  DESIRE 261 

XXIX.  THE  REVOLT  OF  THE  YOUNG  ....  269 

XXX.  THE  GREAT  SLEEP                                                    .  282 


THE  BLUE  GERM 


THE 

BLUE  GERM 


CHAPTER  I 
BLACK    MAGIC 

I  HAD  just  finished  breakfast,  and  deeply 
perplexed  had  risen  from  the  table  in  or- 
der to  get  a  box  of  matches  to  light  a  cigarette, 
when  my  black  cat  got  between  my  feet  and 
tripped  me  up. 

I  fell  forwards,  making  a  clutch  at  the  table- 
cloth. My  forehead  struck  the  corner  of  the 
fender  and  the  last  thing  I  remembered  was  a 
crash  of  falling  crockery.  Then  all  became 
darkness.  My  parlour-maid  found  me  lying 
face  downwards  on  the  hearth-rug  ten  minutes 
later.  My  cat  was  sitting  near  my  head, 
blinking  contentedly  at  the  fire.  A  little 
blood  was  oozing  from  a  wound  above  my  left 
eye. 

They  carried  me  up  to  my  bedroom  and 
11 


12  THE  BLUE  GERM 

sent  for  my  colleague,  Wilfred  Hammer,  who 
lived  next  door.  For  three  days  I  lay  insensi- 
ble, and  Hammer  came  in  continually,  when- 
ever he  could  spare  the  time  from  his  patients, 
and  brooded  over  me.  On  the  fourth  day  I 
began  to  move  about  in  my  bed,  restless  and 
muttering,  and  Hammer  told  me  afterwards 
that  I  seemed  to  be  talking  of  a  black  cat. 
On  the  night  of  the  fourth  day  I  suddenly 
opened  my  eyes.  My  perplexity  had  left  me. 
An  idea,  clear  as  crystal,  was  now  in  my  mind. 

From  that  moment  my  confinement  to  bed 
was  a  source  of  impatience  to  me.  Hammer, 
large,  fair,  square-headed,  and  imperturbable, 
insisted  on  complete  rest,  and  I  chafed  under 
the  restraint.  I  had  only  one  desire — to  get 
up,  slip  down  to  St.  Dane's  Hospital  in  my 
car,  mount  the  bare  stone  steps  that  led  up  to 
the  laboratory  and  begin  work  at  once. 

"Let  me  up,  Hammer,"  I  implored. 

"My  dear  fellow,  you're  semi-delirious." 

"I  must  get  up,"  I  muttered. 

He  laughed  slowly. 

"Not  for  another  week  or  two,  Harden. 
How  is  the  black  cat?" 

"That  cat  is  a  wizard." 


BLACK  MAGIC  13 

I  lay  watching  him  between  half -closed  eye- 
lids. 

"He  gave  me  the  idea." 

"He  gave  you  a  nasty  concussion,"  said 
Hammer. 

"It  was  probably  the  only  way  to  the  idea," 
I  answered.  "I  tell  you  the  cat  is  a  wizard. 
He  did  it  on  purpose.  He's  a  black  magi- 
cian." 

Hammer  laughed  again,  and  went  towards 
the  door. 

"Then  the  idea  must  be  black  magic,"  he 
said. 

I  smiled  painfully,  for  my  head  was  throb- 
bing. But  I  was  happier  then  than  I  had  ever 
been,  for  I  had  solved  the  problem  that  had 
haunted  my  brain  for  ten  years. 

"There's  no  such  thing  as  black  magic,"  I 
said. 

Three  weeks  later  I  beheld  the  miracle.  It 
was  wrought  on  the  last  day  of  December,  in 
the  laboratory  of  the  hospital,  high  above  the 
gloom  and  squalor  of  the  city.  The  miracle 
occurred  within  a  brilliant  little  circle  of  light, 
and  I  saw  it  with  my  eye  glued  to  a  microscope. 


14  THE  BLUE  GERM 

It  passed  off  swiftly  and  quietly,  and  though  I 
expected  it,  I  was  filled  with  a  great  wonder 
and  amazement. 

To  a  lay  mind  the  amazement  with  which  I 
beheld  the  miracle  will  require  explanation.  I 
had  witnessed  the  transformation  of  one  germ 
into  another;  a  thing  which  is  similar  to  a  man 
seeing  a  flock  of  sheep  on  a  hill-side  change 
suddenly  into  a  herd  of  cattle.  For  many 
minutes  I  continued  to  move  the  slide  in  an 
aimless  way  with  trembling  fingers.  My  tem- 
perament is  earthy;  it  had  once  occurred  to 
me  quite  seriously  that  if  I  saw  a  miracle  I 
would  probably  go  mad  under  the  strain. 
Now  that  I  had  seen  one,  after  the  first  flash 
of  realization  my  mind  was  listless  and  dull, 
and  all  feeling  of  surprise  had  died  away.  The 
black  rods  floated  with  slow  motion  in  the 
minute  currents  of  fluid  I  had  introduced. 
The  faint  roar  of  London  came  up  from  far 
below;  the  clock  ticked  steadily  and  the  micro- 
scope lamp  shone  with  silent  radiance.  And  I, 
Richard  Harden,  sat  dangling  my  short  legs 
on  the  high  stool,  thinking  and  thinking.  .  .  . 

That  night  I  wrote  to  Professor  Sarakoff. 
A  month  later  I  was  on  my  way  to  Russia. 


CHAPTER  II 

SARAKOFF'S  MANIFESTO 

THE  recollection  of  my  meeting  with  Sara- 
koff  remains  vividly  in  my  mind.  I  was 
shown  into  a  large  bare  room,  heated  by  an 
immense  stove  like  an  iron  pagoda.  The  floor 
was  of  light  yellow  polished  wood;  the  walls 
were  white-washed,  and  covered  with  pencil 
marks.  A  big  table  covered  with  papers  and 
books  stood  at  one  end.  At  the  other,  through 
an  open  doorway,  there  was  a  glimpse  of  a 
laboratory.  Sarakoff  stood  in  the  centre  of 
the  room,  his  hands  deep  in  his  pockets,  his  pipe 
sending  up  clouds  of  smoke,  his  tall  muscular 
frame  tilted  back.  His  eyes  were  fixed  on  an 
extraordinary  object  that  crawled  slowly  over 
the  polished  floor.  It  was  a  gigantic  tortoise 
— a  specimen  of  Testudo  elephantopus — a 
huge  cumbersome  brute.  Its  ancient,  scaly 
head  was  thrust  out  and  its  eyes  gleamed  with 
a  kind  of  sharp  intelligence.  The  surface  of 

15 


16  THE  BLUE  GERM 

its  vast  and  massive  shell  was  covered  over  with 
scribbles  in  white  chalk — notes  made  by  Sara- 
koff  who  was  in  the  habit  of  jotting  down  fig- 
ures and  formulae  on  anything  near  at  hand. 

As  there  was  only  one  chair  in  the  room, 
Sarakoff  eventually  thrust  me  into  it,  while  he 
sat  down  on  the  great  beast — whom  he  called 
Belshazzar — and  told  me  over  and  over  again 
how  glad  he  was  to  see  me.  And  this  warmth 
of  his  was  pleasant  to  me. 

"Are  you  experimenting  on  Belshazzar?"  I 
asked  at  length. 

He  nodded,  and  smiled  enigmatically. 

"He  is  two  hundred  years  old,"  he  said.  "I 
want  to  get  at  his  secret." 

That  was  the  first  positive  proof  I  got  of  the 
line  of  research  Sarakoff  was  intent  upon,  al- 
though, reading  between  the  lines  of  his  many 
publications,  I  had  guessed  something  of  it. 

In  every  way,  Sarakoff  was  a  complete  con- 
trast to  me.  Tall,  lean,  black-bearded  and 
deep-voiced,  careless  of  public  opinion  and 
prodigal  in  ideas,  he  was  just  my  antithesis. 
He  was  possessed  of  immense  energy.  His 
tousled  black  hair,  moustaches  and  beard 
seemed  to  bristle  with  it;  it  shone  in  his  pale 


SARAKOFF'S  MANIFESTO  17 

blue  eyes.  He  was  full  of  sudden  violence, 
flinging  test-tubes  across  the  laboratory,  shout- 
ing strange  songs,  striding  about  snapping  his 
fingers.  There  was  no  repose  in  him.  At 
first  I  was  a  little  afraid  of  him,  but  the  feeling 
wore  off.  He  spoke  English  fluently,  because 
when  a  boy  he  had  been  at  school  in  London. 

I  will  not  enter  upon  a  detailed  account  of 
our  conversation  that  first  morning  in  Russia, 
when  the  snow  lay  thick  on  the  roofs  of  the 
city,  and  the  ferns  of  frost  sparkled  on  the 
window-panes  of  the  laboratory.  Briefly,  we 
found  ourselves  at  one  over  many  problems 
of  human  research,  and  I  congratulated  myself 
on  the  fact  that  in  communicating  the  account 
of  the  miracle  at  St.  Dane's  Hospital  to  Sara- 
koff  alone,  I  had  done  wisely.  He  was  won- 
derfully enthusiastic. 

"That  discovery  of  yours  has  furnished  the 
key  to  the  great  riddle  I  had  set  myself,"  he 
exclaimed,  striding  to  and  fro.  "We  will  as- 
tonish the  world,  my  friend.  It  is  only  a  ques- 
tion of  time." 

"But  what  is  the  riddle  you  speak  of?"  I 
asked. 

"I  will  tell  you  soon.     Have  patience!"  he 


18  THE  BLUE  GERM 

cried.  He  came  towards  me  impulsively  and 
shook  my  hand.  "We  shall  find  it  beyond 
a  doubt,  and  we  will  call  it  the  Sarakoff-Har- 
den  Bacillus !  What  do  you  think  of  that  ?" 

I  was  somewhat  mystified.  He  sat  down 
again  on  the  back  of  the  tortoise,  smoking  in 
his  ferocious  manner  and  smiling  and  nodding 
to  himself.  I  thought  it  best  to  let  him  disclose 
his  plans  in  his  own  way,  and  kept  back  the 
many  eager  questions  that  rose  to  my  lips. 

"It  seems  to  me,'*  said  Sarakoff  suddenly, 
"that  England  would  be  the  best  place  to  try 
the  experiment.  There's  a  telegraph  every- 
where, reporters  in  every  village,  and  enough 
newspapers  to  carpet  every  square  inch  of  the 
land.  In  a  word,  it's  a  first-class  place  to 
watch  the  results  of  an  experiment." 

"On  a  large  scale?" 

"On  a  gigantic  scale — an  experiment,  ulti- 
mately, on  the  world." 

I  was  puzzled  and  was  anxious  to  draw  him 
into  fuller  details. 

"It  would  begin  in  England?"  I  asked  care- 
lessly. 

He  nodded. 

"But  it  would  spread.     You  remember  how 


SARAKOPF'S  MANIFESTO  19 

the  last  big  outbreak  of  influenza,  which  started 
in  this  country,  spread  like  wildfire  until  the 
waves,  passing  east  and  west,  met  on  the  other 
side  of  the  globe?  That  was  a  big  experi- 
ment." 

"Of  nature,"  I  added. 

He  did  not  reply. 

"An  experiment  of  nature,  you  mean?"  I 
urged.  At  the  time  of  the  last  big  outburst  of 
influenza  which  began  in  Russia,  Sarakoff  must 
have  been  a  student.  Did  he  know  anything 
about  the  origin  of  the  mysterious  and  fatal 
visitation? 

"Yes,  of  nature,"  he  replied  at  last,  but  not 
in  a  tone  that  satisfied  me.  His  manner  in- 
trigued me  so  much  that  I  felt  inclined  to  pur- 
sue the  subject,  but  at  that  moment  we  were 
interrupted  in  a  singular  way. 

The  door  burst  open,  and  into  the  room 
rushed  a  motley  crowd  of  men.  Most  of  them 
were  young  students,  but  here  and  there  I  saw 
older  men,  and  at  the  head  of  the  mob  was  a 
white-bearded  individual,  wearing  an  astrachan 
cap,  who  brandished  a  copy  of  some  Russian 
periodical  in  his  hand. 

Belshazzar  drew  in  his  head  with  a  hiss  that 


20  THE  BLUE  GERM 

I  could  hear  even  above  the  clamour  of  this 
intrusion. 

A  furious  colloquy  began,  which  I  could  not 
understand,  since  it  was  in  Russian.  Sarakoff 
stood  facing  the  angry  crowd  coolly  enough, 
but  that  he  was  inwardly  roused  to  a  dangerous 
degree,  I  could  tell  from  his  gestures.  The 
copy  of  the  periodical  was  much  in  evidence. 
Fists  were  shaken  freely.  The  aged,  white- 
bearded  leader  worked  himself  up  into  a  frenzy 
and  finally  jumped  on  the  periodical,  stamping 
it  under  his  feet  until  he  was  out  of  breath. 

Then  this  excited  band  trooped  out  of  the 
room  and  left  us  in  peace. 

"What  is  it?"  I  asked  when  their  steps  had 
died  away. 

Sarakoff  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  then 
laughed.  He  picked  up  the  battered  periodi- 
cal and  pointed  to  an  article  in  it. 

"I  published  a  manifesto  this  morning — that 
is  all,"  he  remarked  airily. 

"What  sort  of  manifesto?" 

"On  the  origin  of  death."  He  sat  down 
on  Belshazzar's  broad  back  and  twisted  his 
moustaches.  "You  see,  Harden,  I  believe  that 
in  a  few  more  years  death  will  only  exist  as  an 


21 

uncertain  element,  appearing  rarely,  as  an  un- 
natural and  exceptional  incident.  Life  will  be 
limitless;  and  the  length  of  years  attained  by 
Belshazzar  will  seem  as  nothing." 

It  is  curious  how  the  spirit  of  a  new  discovery 
broods  over  the  world  like  a  capricious  being, 
animating  one  investigator  here,  another  there ; 
partially  revealing  itself  in  this  continent,  dis- 
closing another  of  its  secrets  in  that,  until  all 
the  fragments  when  fitted  together  make  up  the 
whole  wonder.  It  seems  that  my  discovery, 
coupled  with  the  results  of  his  own  unpublished 
researches,  had  led  Sarakoff  to  make  that  odd 
manifesto.  Our  combined  work,  although  car- 
ried out  independently,  had  given  the  firm 
groundwork  of  an  amazing  theory  which  Sara- 
koff had  been  maturing  in  his  excited  brain 
for  many  long  years. 

Sarakoff  translated  the  manifesto  to  me.  It 
was  a  trifle  bombastic,  and  its  composition 
appeared  to  me  vague.  No  wonder  it  had 
roused  hostility  among  his  colleagues,  I 
thought,  as  Sarakoff  walked  about,  declaiming 
with  outstretched  arm.  Put  as  briefly  as  pos- 
sible, Sarakoff  held  all  disease  as  due  to  germs 
of  one  sort  or  another;  and  decay  of  bodily 


22  THE  BLUE  GERM 

tissue  he  regarded  in  the  same  light.  In  such 
a  theory  I  stood  beside  him. 

He  continued  to  translate  from  the  soiled 
and  torn  periodical,  waving  his  arm  majes- 
tically. 

"We  have  only  to  eliminate  all  germs  from 
the  world  to  banish  disease  and  decay — and 
death.  Such  an  end  can  be  attained  in  one 
way  alone;  a  way  which  is  known  only  to  me, 
thanks  to  a  magnificent  series  of  profound  in- 
vestigations. I  announce,  therefore,  that  the 
disappearance  of  death  from  this  planet  can  be 
anticipated  with  the  utmost  confidence.  Let 
us  make  preparations.  Let  us  consider  our 
laws.  Let  us  examine  our  resources.  Let  us, 
in  short,  begin  the  reconstruction  of  society." 

"Good  heavens!"  I  exclaimed,  and  sat  star- 
ing at  him. 

He  twirled  his  moustaches  and  observed  me 
with  shining  eyes. 

"What  do  you  think  of  it?" 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders  helplessly. 

"Surely  it  is  far  fetched?" 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  Now  listen  to  me  carefully. 
I'll  give  you,  step  by  step,  the  whole  matter." 
He  walked  up  and  down  for  some  minutes  and 


SARAKOFF'S  MANIFESTO  23 

then  suddenly  stopped  beside  me  and  thumped 
me  on  the  back.  "There's  not  a  flaw  in  it!" 
he  cried.  ''It's  magnificent.  My  dear  fellow, 
death  is  only  a  failure  in  human  perfection. 
There's  nothing  mysterious  in  it.  Religion  has 
made  a  ridiculous  fuss  about  it.  There's  noth- 
ing more  mysterious  in  it  than  there  is  in  a 
badly-oiled  engine  wearing  out.  Now  listen. 
I'm  going  to  begin.  .  .  ." 
I  listened,  fascinated. 


CHAPTER  III 
THE  BUTTERFLIES 

TWO  years  passed  by  after  my  return  to 
London  without  special  incident,  save 
that  my  black  cat  died.  My  work  as  a  con- 
sulting physician  occupied  most  of  my  time. 
In  the  greater  world  beyond  my  consulting- 
room  door  life  went  on  undisturbed  by  any 
thought  of  the  approaching  upheaval,  full  of 
the  old  tragedies  of  ambition  and  love  and  sick- 
ness. But  sometimes  as  I  examined  my  pa- 
tients and  listened  to  their  tales  of  suffering 
and  pain,  a  curious  contraction  of  the  heart 
would  come  upon  me  at  the  thought  that  per- 
haps some  day,  not  so  very  far  remote,  all  the 
endless  cycle  of  disease  and  misery  would  cease, 
and  a  new  dawn  of  hope  burst  with  blinding 
radiance  upon  weary  humanity.  And  then  a 
mood  of  unbelief  would  darken  my  mind  and  I 
would  view  the  creation  of  the  bacillus  as  an 
idle  and  vain  dream,  an  illusion  never  to  be 
realized.  .  .  . 

24 


THE  BUTTERFLIES  25 

One  evening  as  I  sat  alone  before  my  study 
fire,  my  servant  entered  and  announced  there 
was  a  visitor  to  see  me. 

"Show  him  in  here,"  I  said,  thinking  he  was 
probably  a  late  patient  who  had  come  on  urgent 
business. 

A  moment  later  Professor  Sarakoff  himself 
was  shown  in. 

I  rose  with  a  cry  of  welcome  and  clasped  his 
hand. 

"My  dear  fellow,  why  didn't  you  let  me 
know  you  were  coming?"  I  cried. 

He  smiled  upon  me  with  a  mysterious 
brightness. 

"Harden,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice,  as  if  afraid 
of  being  heard,  "I  came  on  a  sudden  impulse. 
I  wanted  to  show  you  something.  Wait  a 
moment." 

He  went  out  into  the  hall  and  returned  bear- 
ing a  square  box  in  his  hands.  He  laid  it  on 
the  table  and  then  carefully  closed  the  door. 

"It  is  the  first  big  result  of  my  experiments," 
he  whispered.  He  opened  the  box  and  drew 
out  a  glass  case  covered  over  with  white  muslin. 

He  stepped  back  from  the  table  and  looked 
at  me  triumphantly. 


26  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"What  is  it?"  I  asked. 

"Lift  up  the  muslin." 

I  did  so.  On  the  wooden  floor  of  the  glass 
case  were  a  great  number  of  dark  objects.  At 
first  I  thought  they  were  some  kind  of  grub, 
and  then  on  closer  inspection  I  saw  what  they 
were. 

"Butterflies!"  I  exclaimed. 

He  held  up  a  warning  finger  and  tiptoed  to 
the  door.  He  opened  it  suddenly  and  seemed 
relieved  to  find  no  one  outside. 

"Hush!"  he  said,  closing  the  door  again. 
"Yes,  they  are  butterflies."  He  came  back 
to  the  table  and  gave  one  of  the  glass  panels 
a  tap  with  his  finger.  The  butterflies  stirred 
and  some  spread  their  wings.  They  were  a 
brilliant  greenish  purple  shot  with  pale  blue. 
"Yes,  they  are  butterflies." 

I  peered  at  them. 

"The  specimen  is  unknown  in  England  as 
far  as  I  know." 

"Quite  so.     They  are  peculiar  to  Russia." 

"But  what  are  you  doing  with  them?"  I 
asked. 

He  continued  to  smile. 


THE  BUTTERFLIES  27 

"Do  you  notice  anything  remarkable  about 
these  butterflies?" 

"No,"  I  said  after  prolonged  observation, 
"I  can't  say  I  do  ...  save  that  they  are  not 
denizens  of  this  country." 

"I  think  we  might  christen  them,"  he  said. 
"Let  us  call  them  Lepidoptera  Sarakoffii." 
He  tapped  the  glass  again  and  watched  the 
insects  move.  "But  they  are  very  remark- 
able," he  continued.  "Do  they  appear  healthy 
to  you?" 

"Perfectly." 

"You  agree,  then,  that  they  are  in  good 
condition?" 

"They  seem  to  be  in  excellent  condition." 

"No  signs  of  decay — or  disease?" 

"None." 

He  nodded. 

"And  yet,"  he  said  thoughtfully,  "they 
should  be,  according  to  natural  law,  a  mass  of 
decayed  tissue." 

"Ah!"  I  looked  at  him  with  dawning  com- 
prehension. "You  mean ?" 

"I  mean  that  they  should  have  died  long 
ago." 

"How  long  do  they  live  normally?" 


28  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"About  twenty  to  thirty  hours.  At  the 
outside  their  life  is  not  more  than  thirty-six 
hours.  These  are  somewhat  older." 

I  gazed  at  the  little  creatures  crawling  aim- 
lessly about.  Aimless,  did  I  say?  There 
they  were,  filling  up  the  floor  of  the  glass  case, 
moving  with  difficulty,  getting  in  each  other's 
way,  sprawling  and  colliding,  apparently  with- 
out aim  or  purpose.  At  that  spectacle  my 
thoughts  might  well  have  taken  a  leap  into  the 
future  and  seen,  instead  of  a  crowded  mass  of 
butterflies,  a  crowded  mass  of  humanity.  I 
asked  Sarakoff  a  question. 

"How  old  are  they?"  I  expected  to  hear 
they  had  existed  perhaps  a  day  or  two  beyond 
their  normal  limit. 

"They  are  almost  exactly  a  year  old,"  was 
the  reply.  I  stared,  marvelling.  A  year  old ! 
I  bent  down,  gazing  at  the  turbulent  restless 
mass  of  gaudy  colour.  A  year  old — and  still 
vital  and  healthy ! 

"You  mean  these  insects  have  lived  a  whole 
year?"  I  exclaimed,  still  unconvinced. 

He  nodded. 

"But  that  is  a  miracle!" 

"It  is,  proportionately,  equal  to  a  man  living 


THE  BUTTERFLIES  29 

twenty-five  thousand  years  instead  of  the  nor- 
mal seventy." 

"You  don't  suggest ?" 

He  replaced  the  muslin  covering  and  took 
out  his  pipe  and  tobacco  pouch.  Absurd,  out- 
rageous ideas  crowded  to  my  mind.  Was  it, 
then,  possible  that  our  dream  was  to  become 
reality? 

"I  don't  suppose  they'll  live  much  longer,"  I 
stammered. 

He  was  silent  until  he  had  lit  his  pipe. 

"If  you  met  a  man  who  had  lived  twenty- 
five  thousand  years,  would  you  be  inclined  to 
tell  me  he  would  not  live  much  longer,  simply 
on  general  considerations?" 

I  could  not  find  a  satisfactory  answer. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  the  question  scarcely  con- 
veyed anything  to  me.  One  can  realize  only  by 
reference  to  familiar  standards.  The  idea  of 
a  man  who  has  lived  one  hundred  and  fifty 
years  is  to  me  a  more  realistic  curiosity  than 
the  idea  of  a  man  twenty-five  thousand  years 
old.  But  I  caught  a  glimpse,  as  it  were,  of 
strange  figures,  moving  about  in  a  colourless 
background,  with  calm  gestures,  slow  speeches, 
silences  perhaps  a  year  in  length.  The  famil- 


30  THE  BLUE  GERM 

iar  outline  of  London  crumbled  suddenly  away, 
the  blotches  of  shadow  and  the  coloured  shafts 
of  light  striking  between  the  gaps  in  the 
crowds,  the  violet-lit  tubes,  the  traffic,  faded 
into  the  conception  of  twenty-five  thousand 
years.  All  this  many-angled,  many-coloured 
modern  spectacle  that  was  a  few  thousand 
years  removed  from  cave  dwellings,  was  rolled 
flat  and  level,  merging  into  this  grey  formless 
carpet  of  time. 

Next  morning  Sarakoff  returned  to  Russia, 
bearing  with  him  the  wonderful  butterflies,  and 
for  many  months  I  heard  nothing  from  him. 
But  before  he  went  he  told  me  that  he  would 
return  soon. 

"I  have  only  one  step  further  to  take  and 
the  ideal  germ  will  be  created,  Harden.  Then 
we  poor  mortals  will  realize  the  dream  that  has 
haunted  us  since  the  beginning  of  time.  We 
will  attain  immortality,  and  the  fear  of  death, 
round  which  everything  is  built,  will  vanish. 
We  will  become  gods !" 

"Or  devils,  Sarakoff!"  I  murmured. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE   SIX  TUBES 

ONE  night,  just  as  I  entered  my  house,  the 
telephone  bell  in  the  hall  rang  sharply  I 
picked  up  the  receiver  impatiently,  for  I  was 
tired  with  the  long  day's  work. 

"Is  that  Dr.  Harden?" 

"Yes." 

"Can  you  come  down  to  Charing  Cross  Sta- 
tion at  once?  The  station-master  is  speaking." 

"An  accident?" 

"No.  We  wish  you  to  identify  a  person 
who  has  arrived  by  the  boat-train.  The  police 
are  detaining  him  as  a  suspect.  He  gave  your 
name  as  a  reference.  He  is  a  Russian." 

"All  right.     I'll  come  at  once." 

I  hung  up  the  receiver  and  told  the  servant 
to  whistle  for  a  taxi-cab.  Ten  minutes  later  I 
was  picking  my  way  through  the  crowds  on  the 
platform  to  the  station-master's  office.  I  en- 
tered, and  found  a  strange  scene  being  enacted. 
On  one  side  of  a  table  stood  Sarakoff,  very 

31 


32  THE  BLUE  GERM 

flushed,  with  shining  eyes,  clasping  a  black  bag 
tightly  to  his  breast.  On  the  other  side  stood  a 
group  of  four  men,  the  station-master,  a  police 
officer,  a  plain  clothes  man  and  an  elderly  gen- 
tleman in  white  spats.  The  last  was  pointing 
an  accusing  finger  at  Sarakoff. 

"Open  that  bag  and  we'll  believe  you  I"  he 
shouted. 

Sarakoff  glared  at  him  defiantly. 

I  recognized  his  accuser  at  once.  It  was 
Lord  Alberan,  the  famous  Tory  obstructionist. 

"Anarchist!"  Lord  Alberan's  voice  rang 
out  sharply.  He  took  out  a  handkerchief  and 
mopped  his  face. 

"Arrest  him!"  he  said  to  the  constable  with 
an  air  of  satisfaction.  "I  knew  he  was  an 
anarchist  the  moment  I  set  eyes  on  him  at 
Dover.  There  is  an  infernal  machine  in  that 
bag.  The  man  reeks  of  vodka.  He  is  mad." 

"Idiot,"  exclaimed  Sarakoff,  with  great  ve- 
hemence. "I  drink  nothing  but  water." 

"He  wishes  to  destroy  London,"  said  Lord 
Alberan  coldly.  "There  is  enough  dynamite 
in  that  bag  to  blow  the  whole  of  Trafalgar 
Square  into  fragments.  Arrest  him  in- 
stantly." 


THE  SIX  TUBES  33 

I  stepped  forward  from  the  shadows  by  the 
door.  Sarakoff  uttered  a  cry  of  pleasure. 

"Ah,  Harden,  I  knew  you  would  come. 
Get  me  out  of  this  stupid  situation!" 

"What  is  the  matter?"  I  asked,  glancing  at 
the  station-master.  He  explained  briefly  that 
Lord  Alberan  and  Sarakoff  had  travelled  up  in 
the  same  compartment  from  Dover,  and  that 
Sarakoff's  strange  restlessness  and  excited 
movements  had  roused  Lord  Alberan's  sus- 
picions. As  a  consequence  Sarakoff  had  been 
detained  for  examination. 

"If  he  would  open  his  bag  we  should  be 
satisfied,"  added  the  station-master.  I  looked 
at  my  friend  significantly. 

"Why  not  open  it?"  I  asked.  "It  would  be 
simplest." 

My  words  had  the  effect  of  quieting  the  ex- 
cited professor.  He  put  the  bag  on  the  table, 
and  placed  his  hands  on  the  top  of  it. 

"Very  well,"  he  said  slowly,  "I  will  open  it, 
since  my  friend  Dr.  Harden  has  requested  me 
to  do  so." 

"Stand  back!"  cried  Lord  Alberan,  flinging 
out  his  arms.  "We  may  be  so  much  dust  fly- 
ing over  London  in  a  moment." 


34  THE  BLUE  GERM 

Sarakoff  took  out  a  key  and  unlocked  the 
bag.  There  was  silence  for  a  moment,  only 
broken  by  hurrying  footsteps  on  the  platform 
without.  Then  Lord  Alberan  stepped  cau- 
tiously forward. 

He  saw  the  worn  canvas  lining  of  the  bag. 
He  took  a  step  nearer  and  saw  a  wooden  rack, 
fitted  in  the  interior,  containing  six  glass  tubes 
whose  mouths  were  stopped  with  plugs  of  cot- 
ton wool. 

"You  see,  there  is  nothing  important  there," 
said  Sarakoff  with  a  smile.  "These  objects  are 
of  purely  scientific  interest.'*  He  took  out  one 
of  the  tubes  and  held  it  up  to  the  light.  It  was 
half  full  of  a  semi-transparent  jelly-like  mass, 
faintly  blue  in  colour.  The  detective,  the  po- 
liceman and  the  station  official  clustered 
round,  their  faces  turned  up  to  the  light  and 
their  eyes  fixed  on  the  tube.  The  Russian 
looked  at  them  narrowly,  and  reading  nothing 
but  dull  wonderment  in  their  expressions,  be- 
gan to  speak  again. 

"Yes — the  Bacillus  Pyocyaneus,"  he  said, 
with  a  faint  mocking  smile  and  a  side  glance  at 
me.  "It  is  occasionally  met  with  in  man  and 
is  easily  detected  by  the  blue  bye-product  it 


THE  SIX  TUBES  35 

gives  off  while  growing."  He  twisted  the 
tube  slowly  round.  "It  is  quite  an  interesting 
culture,"  he  continued  idly.  "Do  you  observe 
the  uniform  distribution  of  the  growth  and  the 
absence  of  any  sign  of  liquefaction  in  the 
medium?" 

Lord  Alberan  cleared  his  throat. 

"I — er — I  think  we  owe  you  an  apology," 
he  said.  "My  suspicions  were  unfounded. 
However,  I  did  my  duty  to  my  country  by  hav- 
ing you  examined.  You  must  admit  your  con- 
duct was  suspicious — highly  suspicious,  sir!" 

Sarakoff  replaced  the  tube  and  locked  the 
bag.  Lord  Alberan  marched  to  the  door  and 
held  it  open. 

"We  need  not  detain  you,  sir,"  said  the 
detective.  The  policeman  squared  his  shoul- 
ders and  hitched  up  his  belt.  The  station  offi- 
cial looked  nervous. 

Dr.  Sarakoff,  with  a  gesture  of  indifference, 
picked  up  the  bag  and,  taking  me  by  the  arm, 
passed  out  on  to  the  brilliantly  lit  platform. 
"Pyocyaneus"  he  muttered  in  my  ear,  "pyo- 
cyaneus,  indeed!  Confound  the  fellow.  He 
might  have  got  me  into  no  end  of  trouble  if  he 
had  known  the  truth,  Harden." 


36  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"But  what  is  it?"  I  asked.  "What  have 
you  got  in  the  bag?" 

He  stopped  under  a  sizzling  arc-lamp  out- 
side the  station. 

"The  bag,"  he  said,  touching  the  worn  leather 
lovingly,  "contains  six  tubes  of  the  Sarakoff- 
Harden  bacillus.  Yes,  I  have  added  your 
name  to  it.  I  will  make  your  name  immortal 
— by  coupling  it  with  mine." 

"But  what  is  the  Sarakoff-Harden  bacillus?" 
I  cried. 

He  struck  an  attitude  under  the  viperish 
glare  of  the  lamp  and  smiled.  He  certainly 
did  look  like  an  anarchist  at  the  moment.  He 
loomed  over  me,  huge,  satanic,  inscrutable. 

A  thrill,  almost  of  fear,  passed  over  me.  I 
glanced  round  in  some  apprehension.  Under 
an  archway  near  by  I  saw  Lord  Alberan  look- 
ing fixedly  at  us.  The  expression  of  suspicion 
had  returned  to  his  face. 

"You  mean ?"  He  nodded.  I  gulped 

a  little.  "You  really  have ?"  He  con- 
tinued to  nod.  "Then  we  can  try  the  great 
experiment?"  I  whispered,  dry  throated. 

"At  once!"     The  detective  passed  us,  brush- 


THE  SIX  TUBES  37 

ing  against  my  shoulder.  I  caught  Sarakoff 
by  the  arm. 

"Look  here — we  must  get  away,"  I  mut- 
tered. I  felt  like  a  criminal.  Sarakoff 
clasped  the  bag  firmly  under  his  free  arm. 
We  began  to  walk  hurriedly  away.  Our  man- 
ner was  furtive.  Once  I  looked  back  and  saw 
Alberan  talking,  with  excited  gestures,  to  the 
detective.  They  were  both  looking  in  our  di- 
rection. The  impulse  to  run  possessed  me. 
"Quick,"  I  exclaimed,  "there's  a  taxi.  Jump 
in.  Drive  to  Harley  Street — like  the  devil." 

Inside  the  cab  I  lay  back,  my  mind  in  a 
whirl. 

"We  begin  the  experiment  to-morrow,"  said 
Sarakoff  at  last.  "Have  you  made  plans  as  I 
told  you?" 

"Yes — yes.  Of  course.  Only  I  never  be- 
lieved it  possible."  I  controlled  myself  and 
sat  up.  "I  fixed  on  Birmingham.  It  seemed 
best — but  I  never  dreamed " 

"Good!"  he  exclaimed.  "Birmingham, 
then!" 

"Their  water  supply  comes  from  Wales." 

We  spoke  no  more  till  I  turned  the  key  of 
my  study  door  behind  me.  It  was  in  this  way 


38  THE  BLUE  GERM 

that  the  germ,  which  made  so  vast  and  strange 
an  impression  on  the  course  of  the  world's 
history,  first  reached  England.  It  had  lain 
under  the  very  nose  of  Lord  Alberan,  who  op- 
posed everything  new  automatically.  Yet  it, 
the  newest  of  all  things,  escaped  his  vigilance. 

We  decided  to  put  our  plans  into  action 
without  delay,  and  next  morning  we  set  off, 
carrying  with  us  the  precious  tubes  of  the 
Sarakoif-Harden  bacillus.  Throughout  the 
long  journey  we  scarcely  spoke  to  each  other. 
Each  of  us  was  absorbed  in  his  picture  of  the 
future  effects  of  the  germ. 

There  was  one  strange  fact  that  Sarakoff 
had  told  me  the  night  before,  and  that  I  had 
verified.  The  bacillus  was  ultra-microscopical 
— that  is,  it  could  not  be  seen,  even  with  the 
highest  power,  under  the  microscope.  Its 
presence  was  only  to  be  detected  by  the  blue 
stain  it  gave  off  during  its  growth. 


CHAPTER  V 
THE   GREAT  AQUEDUCT 

fTlHE  Birmingham  reservoirs  are  a  chain 
JL  of  lakes  artificially  produced  by  damming 
up  the  River  Elan,  a  tributary  of  the  Wye. 
The  great  aqueduct  which  carries  the  water 
from  the  Elan,  eighty  miles  across  country, 
travelling  through  hills  and  bridging  valleys, 
runs  past  Ludlow  and  Cleobury  Mortimer, 
through  the  Wyre  Forest  to  Kidderminster, 
and  on  to  Birmingham  itself  through  Frank- 
ley,  where  there  is  a  large  storage  reservoir 
from  which  the  water  is  distributed. 

The  scenery  was  bleak  and  desolate.  Be- 
fore us  the  sun  was  sinking  in  a  flood  of  crim- 
son light.  We  walked  briskly,  the  long  legs 
of  the  Russian  carrying  him  swiftly  over  the 
uneven  ground  while  I  trotted  beside  him. 
Before  the  last  rays  of  the  sun  had  died  away 
we  saw  the  black  outline  of  the  Caban  Loch 
dam  before  us,  and  caught  the  sheen  of  water 

39 


40  THE  BLUE  GERM 

beyond.  On  the  north  lay  the  river  Elan  and 
on  the  south  the  steep  side  of  a  mountain 
towered  up  against  the  luminous  sky.  The 
road  runs  along  the  left  bank  of  the  river 
bounded  by  a  series  of  bold  and  abrupt  crags 
that  rise  to  a  height  of  some  eight  hundred  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  water.  Just  below  the 
Caban  Dam  is  a  house  occupied  by  an  inspector 
in  charge  of  the  gauge  apparatus  that  is  used 
to  measure  the  outflow  of  water  from  the  huge 
natural  reservoirs.  The  lights  from  his  house 
twinkled  through  the  growing  darkness  as  we 
drew  near,  and  we  skirted  it  by  a  short  detour 
and  pressed  on. 

"How  long  does  water  take  to  get  from  here 
to  Birmingham?"  asked  Sarakoff  as  we  climbed 
up  to  the  edge  of  the  first  lake. 

"It  travels  about  a  couple  of  miles  an  hour," 
I  replied.  "So  that  means  about  a  day  and  a 
half." 

We  spoke  in  low  voices,  for  we  were  afraid 
of  detection.  The  presence  of  two  visitors  at 
that  hour  might  well  have  attracted  attention. 

"A  day  and  a  half!  Then  the  bacillus  has 
a  long  journey  to  take."  He  stopped  at  the 
margin  of  the  water  and  stared  across  the 


THE  GREAT  AQUEDUCT  41 

shadowy  lake.  "Yes,  it  has  a  long  journey  to 
take,  for  it  will  go  round  the  whole  world." 

The  last  glow  in  the  sky  tinted  the  calm 
sheet  of  water  a  deep  blood  colour.  Sarakoff 
opened  his  bag  and  took  out  a  couple  of  tubes. 

He  pulled  the  cotton-wool  plugs  out  of 
the  tubes  and,  with  a  long  wire,  loosened  the 
gelatinous  contents.  Then,  inverting  the 
tubes  he  flung  them  into  the  lake  close  to  the 
beginning  of  the  huge  aqueduct. 

I  stared  as  the  tubes  vanished  from  sight, 
feeling  that  it  was  too  late  to  regret  what 
had  now  been  done,  for  nothing  could  collect 
those  millions  of  bacilli,  that  had  been  set 
free  in  the  water.  Already  some  of  them 
had  perhaps  entered  the  dark  cavernous  mouth 
of  the  first  culvert  to  start  on  their  slow  jour- 
ney to  Birmingham.  The  light  faded  from  the 
sky  and  darkness  spread  swiftly  over  the  lake. 
Sarakoff  emptied  the  remaining  tubes  calmly 
and  then  turned  his  footsteps  in  the  direction 
of  Rhayader.  I  waited  a  moment  longer  in 
the  deep  silence  of  that  lonely  spot;  and  then 
with  a  shiver  followed  my  friend.  The  bacillus 
had  been  let  loose  on  the  world. 


CHAPTER  VI 
THE  ATTITUDE  OF   MR.   THORNDUCK 

¥  11  TE  reached  London  next  day  in  the  after- 
V  V  noon.  I  felt  exhausted  and  could 
scarcely  answer  Sarakoff,  who  had  talked  con- 
tinuously during  the  journey. 

But  his  theory  had  interested  me.  The 
Russian  had  revealed  much  of  his  character, 
under  the  stress  of  excitement.  He  spoke  of 
the  coming  of  Immortality  in  the  light  of  a 
physical  boon  to  mankind.  He  seemed  to  see 
in  his  mind's  eye  a  great  picture  of  comfort  and 
physical  enjoyment  and  of  a  humanity  released 
from  the  grim  spectres  of  disease  and  death, 
and  ceaselessly  pursuing  pleasure. 

"I  love  life,"  he  remarked.  "I  love  fame 
and  success.  I  love  comfort,  ease,  laughter, 
and  companionship.  The  whole  of  Nature  is 
beautiful  to  me,  and  a  beautiful  woman  is 
Nature's  best  reward.  Now  that  the  dawn  of 
Immortality  is  at  hand,  Harden,  we  must  set 
about  reorganizing  the  world  so  that  it  may 
yield  the  maximum  of  pleasure." 

42 


ATTITUDE  OF  MR.  THORNDUCK        43 

"But  surely  there  will  be  some  limit  to 
pleasure?"  I  objected. 

"Why?  Can't  you  see  that  is  just  what 
there  will  not  be?"  he  cried  excitedly.  "We 
are  going  to  do  away  with  the  confining  limits. 
Your  imagination  is  too  cramped!  You  sit 
there,  huddled  up  in  a  corner,  as  if  we  had  let 
loose  a  dreadful  plague  on  Birmingham !" 

"It  may  prove  to  be  so,"  I  muttered.  I  do 
not  think  I  had  any  clear  idea  as  to  the  future, 
but  there  is  a  natural  machinery  in  the  mind 
that  doubts  golden  ages  and  universal  pana- 
ceas. Call  it  superstition  if  you  will,  but 
man's  instinct  tells  him  he  cannot  have  uninter- 
rupted pleasure  without  paying  for  it.  I  said 
as  much  to  the  Russian. 

He  gave  vent  to  a  roar  of  laughter. 

"You  have  all  the  caution  and  timidity  of 
your  race,"  he  said.  "You  are  fearful  even  in 
your  hour  of  deliverance.  My  friend,  it  is  im- 
possible to  conceive,  even  faintly,  of  the  change 
that  will  come  over  us  towards  the  meaning  of 
life.  Can't  you  see  that,  as  soon  as  the  idea  of 
Immortality  gets  hold  of  people,  they  will  de- 
vote all  their  energies  to  making  their  earth  a 
paradise?  Why,  it  is  obvious.  They  will 
then  know  that  there  is  no  other  paradise." 


44  THE  BLUE  GERM 

He  took  out  his  watch  and  made  a  calcula- 
tion. His  face  became  flushed. 

"The  bacillus  has  travelled  forty-two  miles 
towards  Birmingham,"  he  said,  just  as  our 
train  drew  in  to  the  London  terminus. 

I  was  busy  with  patients  until  dinner-time 
and  did  not  see  anything  of  Sarakoff.  While 
working,  my  exhaustion  and  anxiety  wore  off, 
and  were  replaced  by  a  mild  exhilaration. 
One  of  my  patients  was  a  professor  of  engi- 
neering at  a  northern  university;  a  brilliant 
young  man,  who,  but  for  physical  disease,  had 
the  promise  of  a  great  career  before  him.  He 
had  been  sent  to  me,  after  having  made  a  round 
of  the  consultants,  to  see  if  I  could  give  him 
any  hope  as  to  the  future.  I  went  into  his  case 
carefully,  and  then  addressed  him  a  question. 

"What  is  your  own  view  of  your  case,  Mr. 
Thornduck?" 

He  looked  surprised.  His  face  relaxed,  and 
he  smiled.  I  suppose  he  detected  a  message  of 
hope  in  my  expression. 

"I  have  been  told  by  half-a-dozen  doctors 
that  I  have  not  long  to  live,  Dr.  Harden," 
he  replied.  "But  it  is  very  difficult  for  me  to 
grasp  that  view.  I  find  that  I  behave  as  if 
nothing  were  the  matter.  I  still  go  on  work- 


ATTITUDE  OF  MR.  THORNDUCK       45 

ing.  I  still  see  goals  far  ahead.  Death  is  just 
a  word — frequently  uttered,  it  is  true — but 
meaningless.  What  am  I  to  do?" 

"Go  on  working." 

"And  am  I  to  expect  only  a  short  lease  of 
life?" 

I  rose  from  my  writing-table  and  walked  to 
the  hearth.  A  surge  of  power  came  over  me 
as  I  thought  of  the  bacillus  which  was  so 
silently  and  steadily  advancing  on  Birming- 
ham. 

"Do  you  believe  in  miracles?"  I  asked. 

"That  is  an  odd  question."  He  reflected  for 
a  time.  "No,  I  don't  think  so.  All  one  is 
taught  now-a-days  is  in  a  contrary  direction, 
isn't  it?" 

"Yes,  but  our  knowledge  only  covers  a  very 
small  field — perhaps  an  artificially  isolated 
one,  too." 

"Then  you  think  only  a  miracle  will  save  my 
life?" 

I  nodded  and  gazed  at  him. 

"You  seem  amused,"  he  remarked  quietly. 

"I  am  not  amused,  Mr.  Thornduck.  I  am 
very  happy." 

"Does  my  case  interest  you?" 

"Extremely.     As  a  case,  you  are  typical. 


46  THE  BLUE  GERM 

Your  malady  is  invariably  fatal.  It  is  only 
one  of  the  many  maladies  that  we  know  to  be 
fatal,  while  we  remain  ignorant  of  all  else. 
Under  ordinary  circumstances,  you  would 
have  before  you  about  three  years  of  reasonable 
health  and  sanity." 

"And  then?" 

"Well,  after  that  you  would  be  somewhat 
helpless.  You  would  begin  to  employ  that 
large  section  of  modern  civilization  that  deals 
with  the  somewhat  helpless." 

I  began  to  warm  to  my  theme,  and  clasped 
my  hands  behind  my  back. 

"Yes,  you  would  pass  into  that  class  that  dis- 
proves all  theories  of  a  kindly  Deity,  and  you 
would  become  an  undergraduate  in  the  vast 
and  lamentable  University  of  Suffering, 
through  whose  limitless  corridors  we  medical 
men  walk  with  weary  footsteps.  Ah,  if  only 
an  intelligent  group  of  scientists  had  had  the 
construction  of  the  human  body  to  plan! 
Think  what  poor  stuff  it  is!  Think  how  easy 
it  would  have  been  to  make  it  more  enduring! 
The  cell — what  a  useless  fragile  delicacy! 
And  we  are  made  of  millions  of  these  useless 
fragile  delicacies." 

To  my  surprise  he  laughed  with  great  amuse- 


ATTITUDE  OF  MR.  THORNDUCK       47 

ment.  He  stood  there,  young,  pleasant,  and 
smiling.  I  stared  at  him  with  a  curious  uneasi- 
ness. For  the  moment  I  had  forgotten  what  it 
had  been  my  intention  to  say.  The  dawn  of 
Immortality  passed  out  of  my  mind,  and  I 
found  myself  gazing,  as  it  were,  on  something 
strangely  mysterious. 

"Your  religion  helps  you?"  I  hazarded. 

"Religion?"  He  mused  for  a  moment. 
"Don't  you  think  there  is  some  meaning  be- 
hind our  particular  inevitable  destinies — that 
we  may  perhaps  have  earned  them?" 

"Nonsense!  It  is  all  the  cruel  caprice  of 
Nature,  and  nothing  else." 

"Oh,  come,  Dr.  Harden,  you  surely  take  a 
larger  view.  Do  you  think  the  short  existence 
we  have  here  is  all  the  chance  of  activity  we 
ever  have?  That  I  have  a  glimpse  of  engineer- 
ing, and  you  have  a  short  phase  of  doctoring 
on  this  planet,  and  that  then  we  have  finished 
all  experience?" 

"Certainly.  It  would  not  be  possible  to 
take  any  other  view — horrible." 

"But  you  believe  in  some  theory  of  evolution 
— of  slow  upward  progress?" 

"Yes,  of  course.  That  is  proved  beyond  all 
doubt." 


48  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"And  yet  you  think  it  applies  only  to  the 
body — to  the  instrument — and  not  to  the  im- 
material side  of  us?" 

I  stared  at  him  in  astonishment. 

"I  do  not  think  there  is  any  immaterial  side, 
Mr.  Thornduck." 

He  smiled. 

"A  very  unsatisfying  view,  surely?"  he*  re- 
marked. 

"Unsatisfying,  perhaps,  but  sound  science," 
I  retorted. 

"Sound?"  He  pondered  for  an  instant. 
"Can  a  thing  be  sound  and  unsatisfying  at 
the  same  time?  When  I  see  a  machine  that's 
ugly — that's  unsatisfying  from  the  artist's 
point  of  view — I  always  know  it's  wrongly 
planned  and  inefficient.  Don't  you  think  it's 
the  same  with  theories  of  life?"  He  took  out 
his  watch  and  glanced  at  it.  "But  I  must  not 
keep  you.  Good-bye,  Dr.  Harden." 

He  went  to  the  door,  nodded,  and  left  the 
room  before  I  recalled  that  I  meant  to  hint  to 
him  that  a  miracle  was  going  to  happen,  and 
save  his  life.  I  remained  on  the  hearth-rug, 
wondering  what  on  earth  he  meant. 


CHAPTER  VII 
LEONORA 

1  FOUND  a  note  in  the  hall  from  Sarakoff 
asking  me  to  come  round  to  the  Pyramid 
Restaurant  at  eight  o'clock  to  meet  a  friend  of 
his.  It  was  a  crisp  clear  evening,  and  I  de- 
cided to  walk.  There  were  two  problems  on 
my  mind.  One  was  the  outlook  of  Sarakoff, 
which  even  I  deemed  to  be  too  materialistic. 
The  other  was  the  attitude  of  young  Thorn- 
duck,  which  was  obviously  absurd. 

In  my  top  hat  and  solemn  frock-coat  I  paced 
slowly  down  Harley  Street. 

Thornduck  talked  as  if  suffering,  as  if  all 
that  side  of  existence  which  the  Blue  Germ 
was  to  do  away  with,  were  necessary  and 
salutary.  Sarakoff  spoke  as  if  pleasure  was 
the  only  aim  of  life.  Now,  though  sheer  phy- 
sical pleasure  had  never  entered  very  deeply 
into  my  life,  I  had  never  denied  the  fact  that  it 
was  the  only  motive  of  the  majority  of  my 
patients.  For  what  was  all  our  research  for? 

49 


50  THE  BLUE  GERM 

Simply  to  mitigate  suffering;  and  that  is  an- 
other way  of  saying  that  it  was  to  increase 
physical  well-being.  Why,  then,  did  Sara- 
koif's  views  appear  extreme  to  me?  What 
was  there  in  my  composition  that  whispered  a 
doubt  when  I  had  the  doctrine  of  maximum 
pleasure  painted  with  glowing  enthusiasm  by 
the  Russian  in  the  train  that  afternoon? 

I  moved  into  Oxford  Street  deeply  ponder- 
ing. The  streets  were  crowded,  and  from  shop 
windows  there  streamed  great  wedges  of  white 
and  yellow  light.  The  roar  of  traffic  was 
round  me.  The  'buses  were  packed  with  men 
and  women  returning  late  from  business,  or  on 
the  way  to  seek  relaxation  in  the  city's  amuse- 
ments. I  passed  through  the  throng  as 
through  a  coloured  mist  of  phantoms.  My 
eyes  fastened  on  the  faces  of  those  who  passed 
by.  Who  could  really  doubt  the  doctrine  of 
pleasure?  Which  one  of  those  people  would 
hesitate  to  plunge  into  the  full  tide  of  the 
senses,  did  not  the  limitations  of  the  body  pre- 
vent him? 

I  crossed  Piccadilly  Circus  with  a  brisker 
step.  It  was  no  use  worrying  over  questions 
which  could  not  be  examined  scientifically. 


LEONORA  51 

The  only  really  important  question  in  life  was 
to  be  a  success. 

The  brilliant  entrance  of  the  Pyramid  Rest- 
aurant was  before  me,  and  within,  standing  on 
the  marble  floor,  I  saw  the  tall  figure  of  the 
Russian. 

Sarakoff  greeted  me  with  enthusiasm.  He 
was  wearing  evening-dress  with  a  white  waist- 
coat, and  the  fact  perturbed  me.  I  put  my  hat 
and  stick  in  the  cloakroom. 

"Who  is  coming?"  I  asked  anxiously. 

"Leonora,"  he  whispered.  "I  only  found 
out  she  was  in  London  this  afternoon.  I  met 
her  when  I  was  strolling  in  the  Park  while  you 
were  busy  with  your  patients." 

"But  who  is  Leonora?"  I  asked.  "And 
can  I  meet  her  in  this  state?" 

"Oh,  never  mind  about  your  dress.  You 
are  a  busy  doctor  and  she  will  understand. 
Leonora  is  the  most  marvellous  woman  in  the 
world.  I  intend  to  make  her  marry  me." 

"Is  she  English?"  I  stammered. 

He  laughed. 

"Little  man,  you  look  terrified,  as  usual. 
You  are  always  terrified.  It  is  your  habit. 
No,  Leonora  is  not  English.  She  is  Euro- 


52  THE  BLUE  GERM 

pean.  If  you  went  out  into  the  world  of 
amusement  a  little  more — and  it  would  be  good 
for  you — you  would  know  that  she  has  the 
most  exquisite  voice  in  the  history  of  civiliza- 
tion. She  transcends  the  nightingale  because 
her  body  is  beautiful.  She  transcends  the  pea- 
cock because  her  voice  is  beautiful.  She  is,  in 
fact,  worthy  of  every  homage,  and  you  will 
meet  her  in  a  short  time.  Like  all  perfect 
things  she  is  late." 

He  took  out  his  watch  and  glanced  at  the 
door. 

"You  are  an  extraordinary  person,  Sara- 
koff,"  I  observed,  after  watching  him  a  mo- 
ment. "Will  you  answer  me  a  rather  intimate 
question?" 

"Certainly." 

"What  precisely  do  you  mean  when  you 
say  you  intend  to  make  the  charming  lady 
marry  you?" 

"Precisely  what  I  say.  She  loves  fame. 
So  far  I  have  been  unsuccessful,  because  she 
does  not  think  I  am  famous  enough." 

"How  do  you  intend  to  remedy  that?" 

He  stared  at  me  in  amazement. 

"Do  you  think  that  any  people  have  ever 


LEONORA  53 

been  so  famous  as  you  and  I  will  be  in  a  few 
days?" 

I  looked  away  and  studied  the  bright  throng 
of  visitors  in  the  hall. 

"In  a  few  days?"  I  asked.  "Are  you  not  a 
trifle  optimistic?  Don't  you  think  that  it  will 
take  months  before  the  possibilities  and  mean- 
ing of  the  germ  are  properly  realized?" 

"Rubbish,"  exclaimed  SarakorT.  "You  are 
a  confirmed  pessimist.  You  are  impossible, 
Harden.  You  are  a  mass  of  doubts  and  ap- 
prehensions. Ah,  here  is  Leonora  at  last.  Is 
she  not  marvellous?" 

I  looked  towards  the  entrance.  I  saw  a 
woman  of  medium  height,  very  fair,  dressed 
in  some  soft  clinging  material  of  a  pale  prim- 
rose colour.  From  a  shoulder  hung  a  red  satin 
cloak.  Round  her  neck  was  a  string  of  large 
pearls,  and  in  her  hair  was  a  jewelled  osprey. 
She  presented  a  striking  appearance  and  I 
gained  the  impression  of  some  northern  spirit 
in  her  that  shone  out  of  her  eyes  with  the  bril- 
liancy of  ice. 

Sarakoff  strode  forward,  and  the  contrast 
that  these  two  afforded  was  extraordinary. 
Tall,  dark,  warm  and  animated,  he  stood  be- 


54  THE  BLUE  GERM 

side  her,  and  stooped  to  kiss  her  hand.  She 
gazed  at  him  with  a  smile  so  slight  that  it 
seemed  scarcely  to  disturb  the  perfect  sym- 
metry of  her  face.  He  began  to  talk,  moving 
his  whole  body  constantly  and  making  gestures 
with  his  arms,  with  a  play  of  different  expres- 
sions in  his  face.  She  listened  without  mov- 
ing, save  that  her  eyes  wandered  slowly  round 
the  large  hall.  At  length  Sarakoff  beckoned 
to  me. 

I  approached  somewhat  awkwardly  and  was 
introduced. 

"Leonora,"  said  the  Russian,  "this  is  a  little 
English  doctor  with  a  very  large  brain.  He 
was  closely  connected  with  the  great  discovery 
of  which  I  am  going  to  tell  you  something  to- 
night at  dinner.  He  is  my  friend  and  his 
name  is  Richard  Harden." 

"I  like  your  name,"  said  Leonora,  in  a  clear 
soft  voice. 

I  took  her  hand.  We  passed  into  the  restau- 
rant. It  was  one  of  those  vast  pleasure-pal- 
aces of  music,  scent,  colour  and  food  that 
abounded  in  London.  An  orchestra  was  play- 
ing somewhere  high  aloft.  The  luxury  of 
these  establishments  was  always  sounding  a 


LEONORA  55 

curious  warning  deep  down  in  my  mind.  But 
then,  as  Sarakoff  had  said,  I  am  a  pessimist, 
and  if  I  were  to  say  that  I  have  noticed  that 
nature  often  becomes  very  prodigal  and  lavish 
just  before  she  takes  away  and  destroys,  I 
would  be  uttering,  perhaps,  one  of  the  many 
half-truths  in  which  the  pessimistic  spirit  de- 
lights. 

Our  table  was  in  a  corner  at  an  agreeable 
distance  from  the  orchestra.  Sarakoff  placed 
Leonora  between  him  and  myself.  Attentive 
waiters  hurried  to  serve  us;  and  the  eyes  of 
everyone  in  our  immediate  neighbourhood  were 
turned  in  our  direction.  Leonora  did  not  ap- 
pear to  be  affected  by  the  interest  she  aroused. 
She  flung  her  cloak  on  the  back  of  her  chair, 
put  her  elbows  on  the  table,  and  gazed  at  the 
Russian  intently. 

"Tell  me  of  your  discovery,  Alexis." 

He  smiled,  enchanted. 

"I  shall  be  best  able  to  give  you  some  idea 
of  what  our  discovery  means  if  I  begin  by 
telling  you  that  I  am  going  to  read  your  char- 
acter. Does  that  interest  you?" 

She  nodded.  Then  she  turned  to  me  and 
studied  me  for  a  moment. 


56  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"No,  Alexis.  Let  Richard  read  my  char- 
acter first." 

I  blushed  successfully. 

"Why  do  you  blush?"  she  asked  with  some 
interest. 

"He  blushed  because  of  your  unpardonable 
familiarity  in  calling  him  Richard,"  laughed 
Sarakoff. 

"I  shall  be  most  happy,  Leonora,"  I  stam- 
mered, making  an  immense  effort,  and  longing 
for  the  waiter  to  bring  the  champagne.  "But 
I  am  not  good  at  the  art." 

"But  you  must  try." 

I  saw  no  way  out  of  the  predicament. 
Sarakoff 's  eyes  were  twinkling  roguishly,  so  I 
began,  keeping  my  gaze  on  the  table. 

"You  have  a  well-controlled  character,  with 
a  considerable  power  of  knowing  exactly  what 
you  want  to  do  with  your  life,  and  you  come 
from  the  North.  I  fancy  you  sleep  badly." 

"How  do  you  know  I  sleep  badly?"  she 
challenged. 

"Your  eyes  are  a  clear  frosty  blue,  and 
you  are  of  rather  slight  build.  I  am  merely 
speaking  from  my  own  experience  as  a  doctor." 

I  suppose  my  words  were  not  particularly 


LEONORA  57 

gracious  or  well-spoken.  Leonora  simply 
nodded  and  leaned  back  from  the  table. 

"Now,  Alexis,  tell  me  about  myself,"  she 
said. 

My  glass  now  contained  champagne  and  I 
decided  to  allow  that  wizard  to  take  charge  of 
my  affairs  for  a  time. 

"Leonora,  you  are  one  of  those  women  who 
visit  this  dull  planet  from  time  to  time  for 
reasons  best  known  to  themselves.  I  think 
you  must  come  from  Venus,  or  one  of  the 
asteroids ;  or  it  may  be  from  Sirius.  From  the 
beginning  you  knew  you  were  not  like  ordinary 
people." 

"Alexis,"  she  drawled,  "you  are  boring  me." 

"Capital!"  said  Sarakoff.  "Now  we  will 
descend  to  facts,  as  our  friend  here  did.  You 
are  the  most  inordinately  vain,  ambitious,  cold- 
hearted  woman  in  Europe,  Leonora.  You 
value  yourself  before  everything.  You  think 
your  voice  and  your  beauty  cannot  be  beaten, 
and  you  are  right.  Now  if  I  were  to  tell  you 
that  your  voice  and  your  beauty  could  be  pre- 
served, year  after  year,  without  any  change, 
what  would  you  think?" 

A  kind  of  fierce  vitality  sprang  into  her  face. 


58  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"What  do  you  mean?"  she  asked  quietly. 
"Have  you  discovered  the  elixir  of  youth?" 

He  nodded.     She  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm. 

"How  long  does  its  effect  last?" 

"Well — for  a  considerable  time." 

"You  are  certain?" 

"Absolutely." 

She  leaned  towards  him. 

"You  will  let  no  one  else  have  it,  Alexis," 
she  asked  softly.  "Only  me?" 

Sarakoff  glanced  at  me. 

"Leonora,  you  are  very  selfish." 

"Of  course." 

"Well,  you  are  not  the  only  person  who  is 
going  to  have  the  elixir.  The  whole  world  is 
going  to  have  it." 

I  watched  her  with  absorbed  attention.  She 
seemed  to  accept  the  idea  of  an  elixir  of  youth 
without  any  incredulity,  and  did  not  find  any- 
thing extraordinary  in  the  fact  of  its  discovery. 
In  that  respect,  I  fancied,  she  was  typical  of  a 
large  class  of  women — that  class  that  thinks  a 
doctor  is  a  magician,  or  should  be.  But  when 
Sarakoff  said  that  the  whole  world  was  going 
to  have  the  elixir,  a  spasm  of  anger  shewed  for 
a  moment  in  her  face.  She  lowered  her  eyes. 


LEONORA  59 

"This  is  unkind  of  you,  Alexis.  Why 
should  not  just  you  and  I  have  the  elixir?" 
She  raised  her  eyes  and  turned  them  directly 
on  Sarakoff.  "Why  not?"  she  murmured. 

The  Russian  flushed  slightly. 

"Leonora,  it  must  either  not  be,  or  else  the 
whole  world  must  have  it.  It  can't  be  con- 
fined. It  must  spread.  It's  a  germ.  We 
have  let  it  loose  in  Birmingham." 

She  shuddered. 

"A  germ?  What  does  he  mean?"  She 
turned  to  me. 

"It's  a  germ  that  will  do  away  with  all  dis- 
ease and  decay,"  I  said. 

"It  will  make  me  younger?" 

"Of  that  I  am  uncertain.  It  will  more 
probably  fix  us  where  we  are." 

The  Russian  nodded  in  confirmation  of  my 
view.  Leonora  considered  for  a  while.  I 
could  see  nothing  in  her  appearance  that  she 
could  have  wished  altered,  but  she  seemed  dis- 
satisfied. 

"I  should  have  preferred  it  to  make  us  all  a 
little  younger,"  she  said  decidedly.  Her  total 
lack  of  the  sense  of  miracles  astonished  me. 
She  behaved  as  if  Sarakoif  had  told  her  that 


60  THE  BLUE  GERM 

we  had  discovered  a  new  kind  of  soap  or  a  new 
patent  food.  "But  I  am  glad  you  have  found 
it,  Alexis,"  she  continued.  "It  will  certainly 
make  you  famous.  That  will  be  nice,  but  I  am 
sorry  you  should  have  given  the  elixir  to  Bir- 
mingham first.  Birmingham  is  in  no  need  of 
an  elixir,  my  friend.  You  should  have  put 
something  else  in  their  water-supply."  She 
turned  to  me  and  examined  me  with  calm  criti- 
cism. "What  a  pity  you  didn't  discover  the 
elixir  when  you  were  younger,  Richard.  Your 
hair  is  grey  at  the  temples."  A  clear  laugh 
suddenly  came  from  her.  "What  a  lot  of 
jealousy  there  will  be,  Alexis.  The  old  ones 
will  be  so  envious  of  the  young.  Think  how 
Madame  Reaour  will  rage — and  Betty,  and  the 
Signora — all  my  friends — oh,  I  feel  quite  glad 
now  that  it  doesn't  make  people  younger. 
You  are  sure  it  won't?" 

"I  don't  think  so,"  said  Sarakoff,  watching 
her  through  half -closed  lids.  "No,  I  think 
you  are  safe,  Leonora." 

"And  my  voice?" 

"It  will  preserve  that  .  .  .  indefinitely,  I 
think." 

She  was  arrested  by  the  new  idea.     She 


LEONORA  61 

looked  into  the  distance  and  fingered  the  pearls 
at  her  throat. 

"Then  I  shall  become  the  most  famous 
singer  in  the  whole  world,"  she  murmured. 
"And  I  shall  have  all  the  money  I  want.  My 
friend,  you  have  done  me  a  service.  I  will  not 
forget  it."  She  looked  at  him  and  laughed 
slightly.  "But  I  do  not  think  you  have  done 
the  world  a  service.  A  great  many  people 
will  not  like  the  germ.  No,  they  will  desire 
to  get  rid  of  it,  Alexis." 

She  shuddered  a  little.     I  stared  at  her. 

"I  think  you  are  mistaken,"  said  Alexis, 
gruffly. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"Come,  let  us  finish  dinner  quickly  and  I 
will  take  you  both  to  my  flat  and  sing  to  you 
a  little."  " 

Leonora's  flat  was  in  Whitehall  Court,  and 
of  its  luxury  I  need  not  speak.  I  must  confess 
to  the  fact  that,  sober  and  timid  as  is  my  na- 
ture, I  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  atmosphere. 
Leonora  was  generous.  Her  voice  was  ex- 
quisite. I  sat  on  a  deep  couch  of  green  satin 
and  gazed  at  a  Chinese  idol  cut  in  green  jade, 
that  stood  on  a  neighbouring  table,  with  all  my 


62  THE  BLUE  GERM 

senses  lulled  by  the  charm  of  her  singing.  The 
sense  of  responsibility  fell  away  from  me  like 
severed  cords.  I  became  pagan  as  I  lolled 
there,  a  creature  of  sensuous  feeling.  Sara- 
koff  lay  back  in  a  deep  chair  in  the  shadow  with 
his  eyes  fixed  on  Leonora.  We  were  both  in  a 
kind  of  delicious  drowsiness  when  the  opening 
of  the  door  roused  us. 

Leonora  stopped  abruptly.  With  some 
difficulty  I  removed  my  gaze  from  the  Chinese 
figure,  which  had  hypnotized  me,  and  looked 
round  resentfully. 

Lord  Alberan  was  standing  in  the  doorway. 
He  seemed  surprised  to  find  that  Leonora  had 
visitors.  I  could  not  help  marking  a  slight  air 
of  proprietorship  in  his  manner. 

"I  am  afraid  I  am  interrupting,"  he  said 
smoothly.  He  crossed  to  the  piano  and  leant 
over  Leonora.  "You  got  my  telegram?" 

"No,"  she  replied;  "I  did  not  even  know 
you  had  returned  from  France." 

"I  came  the  day  before  yesterday.  I  had  to 
go  down  to  Maltby  Towers.  I  came  up  to 
town  to-day  and  wired  you  on  the  way." 

He  straightened  himself  and  turned  towards 


LEONORA  63 

us.  Leonora  rose  and  came  down  the  room. 
We  rose. 

"Geoffrey,"  she  said,  drawling  slightly,  "I 
want  to  introduce  you  to  two  friends  of  mine. 
They  will  soon  be  very  famous — more  famous 
than  you  are — because  they  have  discovered  a 
germ  that  is  going  to  keep  us  all  young." 

Lord  Alberan  glanced  at  me  and  then  looked 
hard  at  the  Russian.  A  swiftly  passing  sur- 
prise shewed  that  he  recognized  Sarakoff. 
Leonora  mentioned  our  names  casually,  took 
up  a  cigarette  and  dropped  into  a  chair. 

"Yes,"  she  continued,  "these  gentlemen 
have  put  the  germ  into  the  water  that  supplies 
Birmingham."  She  struck  a  match  and  lit  the 
cigarette.  I  noticed  she  actually  smoked  very 
little,  but  seemed  to  like  to  watch  the  burning 
cigarette.  "Do  sit  down.  What  are  you 
standing  for,  Geoffrey?" 

Lord  Alberan's  attitude  relaxed.  He  had 
evidently  decided  on  his  course  of  action. 

"That  is  very  interesting,"  he  observed,  as 
if  he  had  never  seen  Sarakoff  before.  "A 
germ  that  is  going  to  keep  us  all  young.  It 
reminds  me  of  the  Arabian  Nights.  I  should 
like  to  see  it." 


64-  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"You've  seen  it  already,"  replied  Sarakoff, 
imperturbably. 

Lord  Alberan's  cold  eyes  looked  steadily  be- 
fore him.  His  mouth  tightened. 

"Really?" 

"You  saw  it  at  Charing  Cross  Station  the 
night  before  last." 

"At  Charing  Cross  Station?" 

I  tried  to  signal  to  the  Russian,  but  he 
seemed  determined  to  proceed. 

"Yes — you  thought  I  was  an  anarchist. 
You  saw  the  contents  of  my  bag.  Six  tubes 
containing  a  blue-coloured  gelatine.  Per- 
haps, Lord  Alberan,  you  remember  now." 

"I  remember  perfectly,"  he  exclaimed,  smil- 
ing slightly.  "Yes,  I  regret  my  mistake. 
One  has  to  be  careful." 

"Did  you  think  my  Alexis  was  an  anar- 
chist?" cried  Leonora.  "You  are  the  stupidest 
of  Englishmen." 

It  was  obvious  that  Alberan  did  not  like  this. 
He  glanced  at  a  thin  gold  watch  that  he  carried 
in  his  waistcoat  pocket. 

"I  will  not  interrupt  you  any  longer,"  he 
remarked  gravely.  "You  are  quite  occupied, 
I  see,  and  I  must  apologize  for  intruding." 


LEONORA  65 

"Don't  be  still  more  stupid,"  she  said  lazily. 
"Sit  down.  Tell  me  how  you  like  the  idea 
of  never  dying." 

"I  am  afraid  I  cannot  entertain  the  idea 
seriously."  He  hesitated  and  then  looked 
firmly  at  Sarakoff.  "Do  I  understand,  sir, 
that  you  have  actually  put  some  germ  into  the 
Birmingham  water-supply?" 

The  Russian  nodded. 

"You'll  hear  about  it  in  a  day  or  two,"  he 
said  quietly. 

"You  had  permission  to  do  this?" 

"No,  I  had  no  permission." 

"Are  you  aware  that  you  are  making  a  very 
extraordinary  statement,  sir?" 

"Perfectly." 

Lord  Alberan  became  very  red.  The  lower 
part  of  his  face  seemed  to  expand.  His  eyes 
protruded. 

"Don't  gobble,"  said  Leonora. 

"Gobble?"  stuttered  Alberan,  turning  upon 
her.  "How  dare  you  say  I  gobble?" 

"But  you  are  gobbling." 

"I  refuse  to  stay  here  another  moment.  I 
will  leave  immediately.  As  for  you,  sir,  you 
shall  hear  from  me  in  course  of  time.  To- 


66  THE  BLUE  GERM 

morrow  I  am  compelled  to  go  abroad  again, 
but  when  I  return  I  shall  institute  a  vigorous 
and  detailed  enquiry  into  your  movements, 
which  are  highly  suspicious,  sir, — highly  sus- 
picious." He  moved  to  the  door  and  then 
turned.  "Mademoiselle,  I  wish  you  good- 
night." He  bowed  stiffly  and  went  out. 

"Thank  heaven,  I've  got  rid  of  him  for 
good,"  murmured  Leonora.  "He  proposed 
to  me  last  week,  Alexis." 

"And  what  did  you  say?"  asked  Sarakoff. 

"I  said  I  would  see,  but  things  are  different 
now."  She  turned  her  eyes  straight  in  his 
direction.  "That  is,  if  you  have  told  me  the 
truth,  Alexis.  Oh,  isn't  it  wonderful!"  She 
jumped  up  and  threw  out  her  arms.  "Sup- 
pose that  it  all  comes  true,  Alexis!  Immor- 
tality— always  to  be  young  and  beautiful!" 

"It  will  come  true,"  he  said. 

She  lowered  her  arms  slowly  and  looked  at 
him. 

"I  wonder  how  long  love  will  last?" 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  BLUE  DISEASE 

NEXT  day  the  first  news  of  the  Sarakoff- 
Harden  bacillus  appeared  in  a  small 
paragraph  in  an  evening  paper,  and  immedi- 
ately I  saw  it,  I  hurried  back  to  the  house  in 
Harley  Street  where  Sarakoff  was  writing  a 
record  of  our  researches. 

"Listen  to  this,"  I  cried,  bursting  excitedly 
into  the  room.  I  laid  the  paper  on  the  table 
and  pointed  to  the  column.  "Curious  disease 
among  trout  in  Wales,"  I  read.  "In  the 
Elan  reservoirs  which  have  long  been  famed  for 
their  magnificent  trout,  which  have  recently  in- 
creased so  enormously  in  size  and  number  that 
artificial  stocking  is  entirely  unnecessary,  a 
curious  disease  has  made  its  appearance.  Fish 
caught  there  this  morning  are  reported  to  have 
an  unnatural  bluish  tint,  and  their  flesh,  when 
cooked,  retains  this  hue.  It  is  thought  that 
some  disease  has  broken  out.  Against  this 

67 


68  THE  BLUE  GERM 

theory  is  the  fact  that  no  dead  fish  have  been 
observed.  The  Water  Committee  of  the  City 
Council  of  Birmingham  are  investigating  this 
matter." 

Sarakoff  pushed  his  chair  back  and  twisted  it 
round  towards  me.  For  some  moments  we 
stared  at  each  other  with  almost  scared  ex- 
pressions. Then  a  smile  passed  over  the  Rus- 
sian's face. 

"Ah,  we  had  forgotten  that.  A  bluish  tint! 
Of  course,  it  was  to  be  expected." 

"Yes,"  I  cried,  "and  what  is  more,  the  bluish 
tint  will  show  itself  in  every  man,  woman  or 
child  infected  with  the  bacillus.  Good  heav- 
ens, fancy  not  thinking  of  that  ourselves!" 

Sarakoff  picked  up  the  paper  and  read  the 
paragraph  for  himself.  Then  he  laid  it  down. 
"It  is  strange  that  one  so  persistently  neglects 
the  obvious  in  one's  calculations.  Of  course 
there  will  be  a  bluish  tint."  He  leaned  back 
and  pulled  at  his  beard.  "I  should  think  it  will 
show  itself  in  the  whites  of  the  eyes  first,  just 
as  jaundice  shews  itself  there.  Leonora  won't 
like  that — it  won't  suit  her  colouring.  You 
see  that  these  fish,  when  cooked,  retained  the 
bluish  hue.  That  is  very  interesting." 


THE  BLUE  DISEASE  69 

"It's  very  bad  luck  on  the  trout." 

"Why?" 

"After  getting  the  bacillus  into  their  system, 
they  blunder  on  to  a  hook  and  meet  their  death 
straight  away." 

"The  bacillus  is  not  proof  against  death  by 
violence,"  replied  Sarakoff  gravely.  "That  is 
a  factor  that  will  always  remain  constant.  We 
are  agreed  in  looking  on  all  disease  as  event- 
ually due  to  poisons  derived  from  germ  activ- 
ity, but  a  bang  on  the  head  or  asphyxiation  or 
prussic  acid  or  a  bullet  in  the  heart  are  not 
due  to  a  germ.  Yes,  these  poor  trout  little 
knew  what  a  future  they  forfeited  when  they 
took  the  bait," 

"The  bacillus  is  in  Birmingham  by  now," 
I  said  suddenly.  I  passed  my  hand  across  my 
brow  nervously,  and  glanced  at  the  manuscript 
lying  before  Sarakoff.  "You  had  better  keep 
those  papers  locked  up.  I  spent  an  awful  day 
at  the  hospital.  It  dawned  on  me  that  the 
whole  medical  profession  will  want  to  tear  us 
in  pieces  before  the  year  is  out." 

"In  theory  they  ought  not  to." 

"Who  cares  for  theory,  when  it  is  a  question 
of  earning  a  living?  As  I  walked  along  the 


70  THE  BLUE  GERM 

street  to-day,  I  could  have  shrieked  aloud  when 
I  saw  everybody  hurrying  about  as  if  nothing 
were  going  to  happen.  This  is  unnerving  me. 
It  is  so  tremendous." 

Sarakoff  picked  up  his  pen,  and  traced  out  a 
pattern  in  the  blotting-pad  before  him. 

"The  Water  Committee  of  Birmingham  are 
investigating  the  matter,"  he  observed.  "It 
will  be  amusing  to  hear  their  report.  What 
will  they  think  when  they  make  a  bacteriolog- 
ical examination  of  the  water  in  the  reservoir? 
It  will  stagger  them." 

The  next  morning  I  was  down  to  breakfast 
before  my  friend  and  stood  before  the  fire 
eagerly  scanning  the  papers.  At  first  I  could 
find  nothing  that  seemed  to  indicate  any  fur- 
ther effects  of  the  bacillus.  I  was  in  the  act  of 
buttering  a  piece  of  toast  when  my  eye  fell  on 
one  of  the  newspapers  lying  beside  me.  A 
heading  in  small  type  caught  my  eye. 

"The  measles  epidemic  in  Ludlow"  I 
picked  the  paper  up. 

"The  severe  epidemic  of  measles  which  be- 
gan last  week  and  seemed  likely  to  spread 
through  the  entire  town,  has  mysteriously 
abated.  Not  only  are  no  further  cases  re- 


THE  BLUE  DISEASE  71 

ported,  but  several  doctors  report  that  those 
already  attacked  have  recovered  in  an  incredi- 
bly short  space  of  time.  Doubt  has  been  ex- 
pressed by  the  municipal  authorities  as  to 
whether  the  epidemic  was  really  measles." 

I  adjusted  my  glasses  to  read  the  paragraph 
again.  Then  I  got  up  and  went  into  my  study. 
After  rummaging  in  a  drawer  I  pulled  out  and 
unrolled  a  map  of  England.  The  course  of 
the  aqueduct  from  Elan  to  Birmingham  was 
marked  by  a  thin  red  line.  I  followed  it  slowly 
with  the  point  of  my  finger  and  came  on  the 
town  of  Ludlow  about  half-way  along.  I 
stared  at  it. 

"Of  course,"  I  whispered  at  length,  my 
finger  still  resting  on  the  position  of  the  town. 
"All  these  towns  on  the  way  are  supplied  by 
the  aqueduct.  I  hadn't  thought  of  that.  The 
bacillus  is  in  Ludlow." 

For  about  a  minute  I  did  not  move.  Then 
I  rolled  up  the  map  and  went  up  to  Sarakoff's 
bedroom.  I  met  the  Russian  on  the  landing 
on  his  way  to  the  bathroom. 

"The  bacillus  is  in  Ludlow,"  I  said  in  a  curi- 
ously small  voice.  I  stood  on  the  top  stair, 
holding  on  to  the  banister,  my  big  glasses 


72  THE  BLUE  GERM 

aslant  on  my  nose,  and  the  map  hanging  down 
in  my  limp  grasp. 

I  had  to  repeat  the  sentence  before  Sarakoff 
heard  me. 

"Where's  Ludlow?" 

I  sank  on  my  knees  and  unrolled  the  map  on 
the  floor  and  pointed  directly  with  my  finger. 

Sarakoff  went  down  on  all  fours  and  looked 
at  the  spot  keenly. 

"Ah,  on  the  line  of  the  aqueduct!  But  how 
do  you  know  it  is  there?" 

"It  has  cut  short  an  epidemic  of  measles. 
The  doctors  are  puzzled." 

Sarakoff  nodded.  He  was  looking  at  the 
names  of  the  other  towns  that  lay  on  the  course 
of  the  aqueduct. 

"Cleobury-Mortimer,"  he  spelt  out.  "No 
news  from  there?" 

"None." 

"And  none  from  Birmingham  yet?" 

"None." 

"We'll  have  news  to-morrow."  He  raised 
himself  on  his  knees.  "Trout  and  then  meas- 
les!" he  said,  and  laughed.  "This  is  only  the 
beginning.  No  wonder  the  Ludlow  doctors 
are  puzzled." 


THE  BLUE  DISEASE  73 

The  same  evening  there  was  further  news  of 
the  progress  of  the  bacillus.  From  Cleobury- 
Mortimer,  ten  miles  from  Ludlow,  and  twenty 
from  Birmingham,  it  was  reported  that  the 
measles  epidemic  there  had  been  cut  short  in 
the  same  mysterious  manner  as  noticed  in  Lud- 
low. But  next  morning  a  paragraph  of  con- 
siderable length  appeared  which  I  read  out 
in  a  trembling  voice  to  Sarakoff. 

"It  was  reported  a  short  time  ago  that  the 
trout  in  the  Elan  reservoirs  appeared  to  be 
suffering  from  a  singular  disease,  the  effect 
of  which  was  to  tint  their  scales  and  flesh  a 
delicate  bluish  colour.  The  matter  is  being  in- 
vestigated. In  the  meanwhile  it  has  been 
noticed,  both  in  Ludlow  and  Cleobury-Mor- 
timer,  and  also  in  Knighton,  that  the  peculiar 
bluish  tint  has  appeared  amongst  the  inhabit- 
ants. Our  correspondent  states  that  it  is  most 
marked  in  the  conjunctiva?,  or  whites  of  the 
eyes.  There  must  undoubtedly  be  some  con- 
nection between  this  phenomenon  and  the  con- 
dition of  the  trout  in  the  Elan  reservoirs,  as 
all  the  above-mentioned  towns  lie  close  to,  and 
receive  water  from,  the  great  aqueduct.  The 
most  remarkable  thing,  however,  is  that  the 


74  THE  BLUE  GERM 

bluish  discolouration  does  not  seem  to  be  ac- 
companied by  any  symptoms  of  illness  in  those 
whom  it  has  affected.  No  sickness  or  fever  has 
been  observed.  It  is  perhaps  nothing  more 
than  a  curious  coincidence  that  the  abrupt  ces- 
sation of  the  measles  epidemic  in  Ludlow  and 
Cleobury-Mortimer,  reported  in  yesterday's  is- 
sue, should  have  occurred  simultaneously  with 
the  appearance  of  bluish  discolouration  among 
the  inhabitants." 

On  the  same  evening,  I  was  returning  from 
the  hospital  and  saw  the  following  words  on  a 
poster : — 

"Blue  Disease  in  Birmingham." 

I  bought  a  paper  and  scanned  the  columns 
rapidly.  In  the  stop-press  news  I  read: — 

"The  Blue  Disease  has  appeared  in  Birming- 
ham. Cases  are  reported  all  over  the  city. 
The  Public  Health  Department  are  consider- 
ing what  measures  should  be  adopted.  The 
disease  seems  to  be  unaccompanied  by  any 
dangerous  symptoms." 

I  stood  stock-still  in  the  middle  of  the  pave- 
ment. A  steady  stream  of  people  hurrying 
from  business  thronged  past  me.  A  news- 
paper boy  was  shouting  something  down  the 


THE  BLUE  DISEASE  75 

street,  and  as  he  drew  nearer,  I  heard  his 
hoarse  voice  bawling  out: — 

"Blue  Disease  in  Birmingham." 
He  passed  close  to  me,  still  bawling,  and 
his  voice  died  away  in  the  distance.  Men  jos- 
tled me  and  glanced  at  me  angrily.  .  .  .  But 
I  was  lost  in  a  dream.  The  paper  dropped 
from  my  fingers.  In  my  mind's  eye  I  saw  the 
Sarakoff  -Harden  bacillus  in  Birmingham, 
teeming  in  every  water-pipe  in  countless  bil- 
lions, swarming  in  the  carafes  on  dining-room 
tables,  and  in  every  ewer  and  finger-basin,  in- 
fecting everything  it  came  in  contact  with. 
And  the  vision  of  Birmingham  and  the  whole 
stretch  of  country  up  to  the  Elan  watershed 
passed  before  me,  stained  with  a  vivid  blue. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE   MAN   FROM   BIRMINGHAM 

rflHE  following  day  while  walking  to  the 
JL  hospital,  I  noticed  a  group  of  people 
down  a  side  street,  apparently  looking  intently 
at  something  unusual.  I  turned  aside  to  see 
what  it  was.  About  twenty  persons,  mostly 
errand  boys,  were  standing  round  a  sandwich- 
board  man.  At  the  outskirts  of  the  circle,  I 
raised  myself  on  tip-toe  and  peered  over  the 
heads  of  those  in  front.  The  sandwich-board 
man's  back  was  towards  me. 

"What's  the  matter?"  I  asked  of  my  neigh- 
bour. 

"One  of  the  blue  freaks  from  Birmingham," 
was  the  reply. 

My  first  impulse  was  to  fly.  Here  I  was  in 
close  proximity  to  my  handiwork.  I  turned 
and  made  off  a  few  paces.  But  curiosity  over- 
mastered me,  and  I  came  back.  The  man  was 
now  facing  me,  and  I  could  see  him  distinctly 
through  a  gap  in  the  crowd.  It  was  a  thin, 

76 


THE  MAN  FROM  BIRMINGHAM        77 

unshaven  face  with  straightened  features  and 
gaunt  cheeks.  The  eyes  were  deeply  sunken 
and  at  that  moment  turned  downwards.  His 
complexion  was  pale,  but  I  could  see  a  faint 
bluish  tinge  suffusing  the  skin,  that  gave  it  a 
strange,  dead  look.  And  then  the  man  lifted 
his  eyes  and  gazed  straight  at  me.  I  caught 
my  breath,  for  under  the  black  eye  brows,  the 
whites  of  the  eyes  were  stained  a  pure  sparrow- 
egg  blue. 

"I  came  from  Birmingham  yesterday,"  I 
heard  him  saying.  "There  ain't  nothing  the 
matter  with  me." 

"You  ought  to  go  to  a  fever  hospital,"  said 
someone. 

"We  don't  want  that  blue  stuff  in  London," 
added  another. 

"Perhaps  it's  catching,"  said  the  first 
speaker. 

In  a  flash  everyone  had  drawn  back.  The 
sandwich-board  man  stood  in  the  centre  of  the 
road  alone  looking  sharply  round  him.  Sud- 
denly a  wave  of  rage  seemed  to  possess  him. 
He  shook  his  fist  in  the  air,  and  even  as  he 
shook  it,  his  eyes  caught  the  blue  sheen  of  the 
tense  skin  over  the  knuckles.  He  stopped, 


78  THE  BLUE  GERM 

staring  stupidly,  and  the  rage  passed  from  his 
face,  leaving  it  blank  and  incredulous. 

"Lor'  lumme,"  he  muttered.  "If  that  ain't 
queer." 

He  held  out  his  hand,  palm  downwards. 
And  from  the  pavement  I  saw  that  the  man's 
nails  were  as  blue  as  pieces  of  turquoise. 

The  sun  came  out  from  behind  a  passing 
cloud  and  sent  a  sudden  flame  of  radiance  over 
the  scene  in  the  side  street — the  sandwich-board 
man,  his  face  still  blank  and  incredulous,  star- 
ing stupidly  at  his  hands;  the  crowd  standing 
well  back  in  a  wide  semi-circle;  I  further  for- 
ward, peering  through  my  spectacles  and 
clutching  my  umbrella  convulsively.  Then  a 
tall  man,  in  morning  coat  and  top-hat,  pushed 
his  way  through  and  touched  the  man  from 
Birmingham  on  the  shoulder. 

"Can  you  come  to  my  house?"  he  asked  in 
an  undertone.  "I  am  a  doctor  and  would  like 
to  examine  you." 

I  shifted  my  gaze  and  recognized  Dr. 
Symington-Tearle.  The  man  pointed  to  his 
boards. 

"How  about  them  things?" 

"Oh,  you  can  get  rid  of  them.     I'll  pay  you. 


THE  MAN  FROM  BIRMINGHAM        79 

Here  is  my  card  with  the  address.  I'll  expect 
you  in  half-an-hour,  and  it  will  be  well  worth 
while  your  coming." 

Symington-Tearle  moved  away,  and  a  sud- 
den spasm  of  jealousy  affected  me  as  I  watched 
the  well-shaped  top-hat  glittering  down  the 
street  in  the  strong  sunlight.  Why  should 
Symington-Tearle  be  given  an  opportunity  of 
impressing  a  credulous  world  with  some  fan- 
tastic rubbish  of  his  own  devising?  I  stepped 
into  the  road. 

"Do  you  want  a  five-pound  note?"  I  asked. 
The  man  jumped  with  surprise.  "Very  well. 
Come  round  to  this  address  at  once." 

I  handed  him  my  card.  My  next  move  was 
to  telephone*  to  the  hospital  to  say  I  would  be 
late,  and  retrace  my  footsteps  homewards. 

My  visitor»arrived  in  a  very  short  time,  after 
handing  over  his  boards  to  a  comrade  on  the 
understanding  of  suitable  compensation,  and 
was  shown  into  my  study.  Sarakoff  was 
present,  and  he  pored  over  the  man's  nails  and 
eyes  and  skin  with  rapt  attention.  At  last  he 
enquired  how  he  felt. 

"Ain't  never  felt  so  well  in  me  life,"  said  the 


80  THE  BLUE  GERM 

man.  "I  was  saying  to  a  pal  this  morning  'ow 
well  I  felt." 

"Do  you  feel  as  if  you  were  drunk?"  asked 
Sarakoff  tentatively. 

"Well,  sir,  now  you  put  it  that  way,  I  feel 
as  if  I'd  'ad  a  good  glass  of  beer.  Not  drunk, 
but  'appy." 

"Are  you  naturally  cheerful?" 

"I  carn't  say  as  I  am,  sir.  My  profession 
ain't  a  very  cheery  one,  not  in  all  sorts  and 
kinds*  of  weather." 

"But  you  are  distinctly  more  cheerful  this 
morning  than  usual?" 

"I  am,  sir.  I  don't  deny  it.  I  lost  my 
temper  sudden  like  when  that  crowd  drew  away 
from  me  as  if  I'd  got  the  leprosy,  and  I'm 
usually  a  mild  and  forbearin'  man." 

"Sit  down,"  said  Sarakoff.  The  man 
obeyed,  and  Sarakoff  began  to  examine  him 
carefully.  He  told  him  once  or  twice  not  to 
speak,  but  the  man  seemed  in  a  loquacious 
mood  and  was  incapable  of  silence  for  more 
than  a  minute  of  time. 

"And  I  ain't  felt  so  clear  'eaded  not  for 
years,"  he  remarked.  "I  seem  to  see  twice  as 
many  things  to  what  I  used  to,  and  everything 


THE  MAN  FROM  BIRMINGHAM        81 

seems  to  'ave  a  new  coat  of  paint.  I  was 
saying  to  a  pal  early  this  morning  what  a  very 
fine  place  Trafalgar  Square  was  and  'ow  I'd 
never  seemed  to  notice  it  before,  though  I've 
known  it  all  my  life.  And  up  Regent  Street 
I  begun  to  notice  all  sort  o'  little  things  I'd 
never  seen  before,  though  it  was  my  old  beat 
'afore  I  went  to  Birmingham.  O'  course  it 
may  be  because  I  been  out  o'  London  a  spell. 
But  blest  if  I  ever  seed  so  many  fine  shop  win- 
dows in  Regent  Street  before,  or  so  many  dif- 
ferent colours." 

"Headache?" 

"Bless  you,  no,  sir.  Just  the  opposite,  if 
you  understand."  He  looked  round  suddenly. 
"What's  that  noise?"  he  asked.  "It's  been 
worryin'  me  since  I  came  in  here." 

We  listened  intently,  but  neither  I  nor  Sara- 
koff  could  hear  anything. 

"It  comes  from  there."  The  man  pointed 
to  the  laboratory  door.  I  went  and  opened 
it  and  stood  listening.  In  a  corner  by  the 
window  a  clock-work  recording  barometer  was 
ticking  with  a  faint  rhythm. 

"That's   the   noise,"    said    the   man   from 


82  THE  BLUE  GERM 

Birmingham.  "I  knew  it  wasn't  no  clock, 
'cause  it's  too  fast." 

Sarakoff  glanced  significantly  at  me. 

"All  the  senses  very  acute,"  he  said.  "At 
least,  hearing  and  seeing."  He  took  a  bottle 
from  the  laboratory  and  uncorked  it  in  one 
corner  of  the  study.  "Can  you  smell  what 
this  is?" 

The  man,  sitting  ten  feet  away,  gave  one 
sniff. 

"Ammonia,"  he  said  promptly,  and  sneezed. 
"This  'ere  Blue  Disease,"  said  the  man  after 
a  long  pause,  "is  it  dangerous?" 

He  spread  out  his  fingers,  squeezing  the 
turquoise  nails  to  see  if  the  colour  faded.  He 
frowned  to  find  it  fixed.  I  was  standing  at  the 
window,  my  back  to  the  room  and  my  hands 
twisting  nervously  with  each  other  behind  me. 

"No,  it  is  not  dangerous,"  said  Sarakoff. 
He  sat  on  the  edge  of  the  writing-table,  swing- 
ing his  legs  and  staring  meditatively  at  the 
floor.  "It  is  not  dangerous,  is  it,  Harden?" 

I  replied  only  with  a  jerky,  impatient  move- 
ment. 

"What  I  mean,"  persisted  the  man,  "is  this 
— supposin'  the  police  arrest  me,  when  I  go 


THE  MAN  FROM  BIRMINGHAM        83 

back  to  my  job.  'Ave  they  a  right?  'Ave 
people  a  right  to  give  me  the  shove — to  put 
me  in  a  'orspital?  That  crowd  round  me  in 
the  street — it  confused  me,  like — as  if  I  was 
a  leper."  He  paused  and  looked  up  at 
Sarakoff  enquiringly.  "What's  the  cause  of 
it?" 

"A  germ — a  bacillus." 

"Same  as  what  gives  consumption?" 

Sarakoff  nodded.  "But  this  germ  is  harm- 
less," he  added. 

"Then  I  ain't  going  to  die?" 

"No.  That's  just  the  point.  You  aren't 
going  to  die,"  said  the  Russian  slowly. 
"That's  what  is  so  strange." 

I  jumped  round  from  the  window. 

"How  do  you  know?"  I  said  fiercely. 
"There's  no  proof.  It's  all  theory  so  far. 
The  calculations  may  be  wrong." 

The  man  stared  at  me  wonderingly.  He 
saw  me  as  a  man  fighting  with  some  strange 
anxiety,  with  his  forehead  damp  and  shining, 
his  spectacles  aslant  on  his  nose  and  the  heavy 
folds  of  his  frock-coat  shaken  with  a  sudden 
impetuosity. 

"How  do  you  know?"  I  repeated,  shaking 


84  THE  BLUE  GERM 

my  fist  in  the  air.  "How  do  you  know  he 
isn't  going  to  die?" 

Sarakoff  fingered  his  beard  in  silence,  but 
his  eyes  shone  with  a  quiet  certainty.  To  the 
man  from  Birmingham  it  must  have  seemed 
suddenly  strange  that  we  should  behave  in  this 
manner.  His  mind  was  sharpened  to  perceive 
things.  Yesterday,  had  he  been  present  at  a 
similar  scene,  he  would  probably  have  sat  dully, 
rinding  nothing  curious  in  my  passionate  atti- 
tude and  the  calm,  almost  insolent  inscrutabil- 
ity of  Sarakoff.  He  forgot  his  turquoise 
finger  nails,  and  stared,  open-mouthed. 

"Ain't  going  to  die?"  he  said.  "What  do 
yer  mean?" 

"Simply  that  you  aren't  going  to  die,"  was 
Sarakoff 's  soft  answer. 

"Yer  mean,  not  die  of  the  Blue  Disease?" 

"Not  die  at  all." 

"Garn!  Not  die  at  all."  He  looked  at  me. 
"What's  he  mean,  Mister?"  He  looked  al- 
most surprised  with  himself  at  catching  the 
drift  of  Sarakoff 's  sentence.  Inwardly  he  felt 
something  insistent  and  imperious,  forcing  him 
to  grasp  words,  to  blunder  into  new  meanings. 
Some  new  force  was  alive  in  him  and  he  was 


carried  on  by  it  in  spite  of  himself.  He  felt 
strung  up  to  a  pitch  of  nervous  irritation.  He 
got  up  from  his  chair  and  came  forward,  point- 
ing at  Sarakoff.  "What's  this?"  he  demanded. 
"Why  don't  you  speak  out?  Yer  cawn't  hide 
it  from  me."  He  stopped.  His  brain,  work- 
ing at  unwonted  speed,  had  discovered  a  fresh 
suspicion.  "Look  'ere,  you  two  know  some- 
thing about  this  blue  disease."  He  came  a 
step  closer,  and  looking  cunningly  in  my  face, 
said:  "That's  why  you  offered  me  a  five- 
pound  note,  ain't  it?" 

I  avoided  the  scrutiny  of  the  sparrow-egg 
blue  orbs  close  before  me. 

"I  offered  you  the  money  because  I  wished 
to  examine  you,"  I  said  shortly.  "Here  it  is. 
You  can  go  now." 

I  took  a  note  from  a  safe  in  the  corner  of 
the  room,  and  held  it  out.  The  man  took  it, 
felt  its  crispness  and  stowed  it  away  in  a  secure 
pocket.  His  thoughts  were  temporarily  di- 
verted by  the  prospect  of  an  immediate  future 
with  plenty  of  money,  and  he  picked  up  his 
hat  and  went  to  the  door.  But  his  turquoise 
finger  nails  lying  against  the  rusty  black  of  the 


86  THE  BLUE  GERM 

hat  brought  him  back  to  his  suspicions.  He 
paused  and  turned. 

"My  name's  Wain,"  he  said.  "I'm  telling 
you,  in  case  you  might  'ear  of  me  again. 
'Erbert  Wain.  I  know  what  yours  is,  remem- 
ber, because  I  seed  it  on  the  door."  He 
twisted  his  hat  round  several  times  in  his 
hands  and  drew  his  brows  together,  puzzled  at 
the  speed  of  his  ideas.  Then  he  remembered 
the  card  that  Symington-Tearle  had  given  him. 

He  pulled  it  out  and  examined  it.  "I'm 
going  across  to  see  this  gent,"  he  announced. 
"It's  convenient,  'im  living  so  close.  Perhaps 
he'll  'ave  a  word  to  say  about  this  'ere  disease. 
Fair  spread  over  Birmingham,  so  they  say.  It 
would  be  nasty  if  any  bloke  was  responsible  for 
it.  Good  day  to  yer."  He  opened  the  door 
slowly,  and  glanced  back  at  us  standing  in  the 
middle  of  the  room  watching  him.  "Look 
'ere,"  he  said  swiftly,  "what  did  'e  mean,  saying 

I  was  never  going  to  die  and "  The  light 

from  the  window  was  against  his  eyes,  and 
he  could  not  see  the  features  of  Sarakoff 's  face, 
but  there  was  something  in  the  outline  of  his 
body  that  checked  him.  "Guv'ner,  it  ain't 


THE  MAN  FROM  BIRMINGHAM        87 

true."  The  words  came  hoarsely  from  his  lips. 
"I  ain't  never  not  going  to  die." 

Sarakoff  spoke. 

"You  are  never  going  to  die,  Mr.  Herbert 
Wain  .  .  .  you  understand?  .  .  .  Never  go- 
ing to  die,  unless  you  get  killed  in  an  accident 
— or  starve." 

I  jerked  up  my  hand  to  stop  my  friend. 

Wain  stared  incredulously.  Then  he  burst 
into  a  roar  of  laughter  and  smacked  his  thigh. 

"Gor  lumme!"  he  exclaimed,  "if  that  ain't 
rich.  Never  going  to  die!  Live  for  ever! 
Strike  me,  if  that  ain't  a  notion!"  The  tears 
ran  down  his  cheeks  and  he  paused  to  wipe 
them  away.  "If  I  was  to  believe  what  you 
say,"  he  went  on,  "it  would  fair  drive  me  crazy. 
Live  for  ever — s'elp  me,  if  that  wouldn't  be 
just  'ell.  Good-day  to  yer,  gents.  I'm 
obliged  to  yer." 

He  went  out  into  the  sunlit  street  still  roar- 
ing with  laughter,  a  thin,  ragged,  tattered 
figure,  with  the  shadow  of  immortality  upon 
him. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE   ILLNESS   OF   MR.   ANNOT 

THE  departure  of  Mr.  Herbert  Wain  was 
a  relief.  I  turned  to  Sarakoff  at  once 
and  spoke  with  some  heat. 

"You  were  more  than  imprudent  to  give  that 
fellow  hints  that  we  knew  more  about  the  Blue 
Disease  than  anybody  else,"  I  exclaimed. 
"This  may  be  the  beginning  of  incalculable 
trouble."  * 

"Nonsense,"  replied  the  Russian.  "You  are 
far  too  apprehensive,  Harden.  What  can  he 
do?" 

"What  may  he  not  do?"  I  cried  bitterly. 
"Do  you  suppose  London  will  welcome  the 
spread  of  the  germ?  Do  you  think  that  people 
will  be  pleased  to  know  that  you  and  I  were 
responsible  for  its  appearance?" 

"When  they  realize  that  it  brings  immortal- 
ity with  it,  they  will  hail  us  as  the  saviours  of 
humanity." 

88 


THE  ILLNESS  OF  MR.  ANNOT         89 

"Mr.  Herbert  Wain  did  not  seem  to  accept 
the  idea  of  immortality  with  any  pleasure,"  I 
muttered.  "The  suggestion  seemed  to  strike 
him  as  terrible." 

Sarakoff  laughed  genially. 

"My  friend,"  he  said,  "Mr.  Herbert  Wain  is 
not  a  man  of  vision.  He  is  a  cockney,  brought 
up  in  the  streets  of  a  callous  city.  To  him  life 
is  a  hard  struggle,  and  immortality  naturally 
appears  in  a  poor  light.  You  must  have  pa- 
tience. It  will  take  some  time  before  the 
significance  of  this  immortality  is  grasped  by 
the  people.  But  when  it  is  grasped,  all  the 
conditions  of  life  will  change.  Life  will  be- 
come beautiful.  We  will  have  reforms  that, 
under  ordinary  circumstances,  would  have 
taken  countless  ages  to  bring  about.  We  will 
anticipate  our  evolution  by  thousands  of  cen- 
turies. At  one  step  we  will  reach  the  ultimate 
goal  of  our  destiny." 

"And  what  is  that?" 

"Immortality,  of  course.  Surely  you  must 
see  by  now  that  all  the  activities  of  modern  life 
are  really  directed  towards  one  end — towards 
solving  the  riddle  of  prolonging  life  and  at  the 
same  time  increasing  pleasure?  Isn't  that  the 


90  THE  BLUE  GERM 

inner  secret  desire  that  you  doctors  find  in 
every  patient?  So  far  a  compromise  has  only 
been  possible,  but  now  that  is  all  changed.'' 

"I  don't  agree,  Sarakoff.  Some  people 
must  live  for  other  motives.  Take  myself 
...  I  live  for  science." 

"It  is  merely  your  form  of  pleasure." 

"That's  a  quibble,"  I  cried  angrily. 
"Science  is  aspiration.  There's  all  the  differ- 
ence in  the  world  between  aspiration  and  pleas- 
ure. I  have  scarcely  known  what  pleasure  is. 
I  have  worked  like  a  slave  all  my  life,  with  the 
sole  ambition  of  leaving  something  permanent 
behind  me  when  I  die." 

"But  you  won't  die,"  interposed  the  Russian. 
"That  is  the  charm  of  the  new  situation." 

"Then  why  should  I  work?"  The  question 
shaped  itself  in  my  mind  and  I  uttered  it  invol- 
untarily. I  sat  down  and  stared  at  the  fire. 
A  kind  of  dull  depression  came  over  me,  and 
for  some  reason  the  picture  of  Sarakoff 's  but- 
terflies appeared  in  my  mind.  I  saw  them  with 
great  distinctness,  crawling  aimlessly  on  the 
floor  of  their  cage.  "Why  should  I  work?" 
I  repeated. 

Sarakoff  merely  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 


THE  ILLNESS  OF  MR.  ANNOT         91 

turned  away.  Questions  of  that  kind  did  not 
seem  to  bother  him.  His  was  a  nature  that 
escaped  the  necessity  of  self -analysis.  But  I 
was  different,  and  our  conversation  had 
aroused  a  train  of  odd  thought.  What,  after 
all,  was  it  that  kept  my  nose  to  the  grindstone  ? 
Why  had  I  slaved  incessantly  all  my  life,  read- 
ing when  I  might  have  slept,  examining  pa- 
tients when  I  might  have  been  strolling  through 
meadows,  hurrying  through  meals  when  I 
might  have  eaten  at  leisure?  What  was  the 
cause  behind  all  the  tremendous  activity  and 
feverish  haste  of  modern  people  ?  When  Sara- 
koff  had  said  that  I  would  not  die,  and  that 
therein  lay  the  charm  of  the  new  situation,  it 
seemed  as  if  scales  had  momentarily  fallen 
from  my  eyes.  I  beheld  myself  as  something 
ridiculous,  comparable  to  a  hare  that  persists 
in  dashing  along  a  country  lane  in  front  of  the 
headlight  of  a  motor  car,  when  a  turn  one  way 
or  another  would  bring  it  to  safety.  A  great 
uneasiness  filled  me,  and  with  it  came  a  deter- 
mination to  ignore  these  new  fields  of  thought 
that  loomed  round  me — a  determination  that 
I  have  seen  in  old  men  when  they  are  faced  by 
the  new  and  contradictory — and  I  began  to 


92  THE  BLUE  GERM 

force  my  attention  elsewhere.  I  was  relieved 
when  the  door  opened  and  my  servant  entered. 
She  handed  me  a  telegram.  It  was  from  Miss 
Annot,  asking  me  to  come  to  Cambridge  at 
once,  as  her  father  was  seriously  ill.  I  scrib- 
bled a  reply,  saying  I  would  be  down  that  aft- 
ernoon. 

After  the  servant  had  left  the  room,  I  re- 
mained gazing  at  the  fire,  but  my  depression 
left  me.  In  place  of  it  I  felt  a  quiet  elation, 
and  it  was  not  difficult  for  me  to  account  for 
it. 

"I  was  wrong  in  saying  that  I  had  scarcely 
known  what  pleasure  is,"  I  observed  at  length, 
looking  up  at  Sarakoff  with  a  smile.  "I  must 
confess  to  you  that  there  is  one  factor  in  my  life 
that  gives  me  great  pleasure." 

Sarakoff  placed  himself  before  me,  hands  in 
pockets  and  pipe  in  mouth,  and  gazed  at  me 
with  an  answering  smile  in  his  dark  face. 

"A  woman?" 

I  flushed.     The  Russian  seemed  amused. 

"I  thought  as  much,"  he  remarked.  "This 
year  I  noticed  a  change  in  you.  Your  fits  of 
abstraction  suggested  it.  Well,  may  I  con- 


THE  ILLNESS  OF  MR.  ANNOT         93 

gratulate  you?  When  are  you  to  be  mar- 
ried?" 

"That  is  out  of  the  question  at  present,"  I 
answered  hurriedly.  "In  fact,  there  is  no 
definite  arrangement — just  a  mutual  under- 
standing. .  .  .  She  is  not  free." 

Sarakoff  raised  his  shaggy  eyebrows. 

"Then  she  is  already  married?" 

This  cross-examination  was  intensely  painful 
to  me.  Between  Miss  Annot  and  myself  there 
was,  I  hoped,  a  perfect  understanding,  and  I 
quite  realized  the  girl's  position.  She  was 
devoted  to  her  father,  who  required  her  con- 
stant attention  and  care,  and  until  she  was  free 
there  could  be  no  question  of  marriage,  or  even 
an  engagement,  for  fear  of  wounding  the  old 
man's  feelings.  I  quite  appreciated  her  situa- 
tion and  was  content  to  wait. 

"No!     She  has  an  invalid  father,  and " 

"Rubbish!"  said  Sarakoff,  with  remarkable 
force.  "Rubbish!  Marry  her,  man,  and  then 
think  of  her  father.  Why,  that  sort  of 

thing "  He  drew  a  deep  breath  and 

checked  himself. 

I  shook  my  head. 

"That  is  impossible.     Here,  in  England,  we 


94  THE  BLUE  GERM 

cannot  do  such  things.  .  .  .  The  girl's  duty  is 
plain.  I  am  quite  prepared  to  wait." 

"To  wait  for  what?" 

I  looked  at  him  in  unthinking  surprise. 

"Until  Mr.  Annot  dies,  of  course." 

Sarakoff  remained  motionless.  Then  he 
took  his  pipe  out  of  his  mouth,  strolled  to  the 
window,  and  began  to  whistle  to  himself  in 
subdued  tones.  A  moment  later  he  left  the 
room.  I  picked  up  a  time-table  and  looked  out 
a  train,  a  little  puzzled  by  his  behaviour. 

I  reached  Cambridge  early  in  the  afternoon 
and  took  a  taxi  to  the  Annots'  house.  Miss 
Annot  met  me  at  the  door. 

"It  is  so  good  of  you  to  come,"  she  said 
with  a  faint  smile.  "My  father  behaved  very 
foolishly  yesterday.  He  insisted  on  inviting 
the  Perry s  to  lunch,  and  he  talked  a  great  deal 
and  insisted  on  drinking  wine,  with  the  result 
that  in  the  night  he  had  a  return  of  his  gastritis. 
He  is  very  weak  to-day  and  his  mind  seems  to 
be  wandering  a  little." 

"You  should  not  have  allowed  him  to  do 
that,"  I  remonstrated.  "He  is  in  too  fragile  a 
state  to  run  any  risks." 

"Oh,  but  I  couldn't  help  it.     The  Perrys 


THE  ILLNESS  OF  MR.  ANNOT         95 

are  such  old  friends  of  father's,  and  they  were 
only  staying  one  day  in  Cambridge.  Father 
would  have  fretted  if  they  had  not  come." 

I  had  taken  off  my  coat  in  the  hall,  and  we 
were  now  standing  in  the  drawing-room, 

"You  are  tired,  Alice,"  I  said. 

"I've  been  up  most  of  the  night,"  she  replied, 
with  an  effort  towards  brightness.  "But  I  do 
feel  tired,  I  admit." 

I  turned  away  from  her  and  went  to  the 
window.  For  the  first  time  I  felt  the  awk- 
wardness of  our  position.  I  had  a  strong  and 
natural  impulse  to  comfort  her,  but  what  could 
I  do?  After  a  moment's  reflection,  I  made  a 
sudden  resolution. 

"Alice,"  I  said,  "you  and  I  had  better  be- 
come engaged.  Don't  you  think  it  would  be 
easier  for  you?" 

"Oh,  don't,"  she  cried.  "Father  would 
never  endure  the  idea  that  I  belonged  to  an- 
other man.  He  would  worry  about  my  leav- 
ing him  continually.  No,  please  wait.  Per- 
haps it  will  not  be " 

She  checked  herself.  I  remained  silent, 
staring  at  the  pattern  of  the  carpet  with  a 
frown.  To  my  annoyance,  I  could  not  keep 


96  THE  BLUE  GERM 

Sarakoff's  words  out  of  my  mind.  And  yet 
Alice  was  right.  I  felt  sure  that  no  one  is  a 
free  agent  in  the  sense  that  he  or  she  can  be 
guided  solely  by  love.  It  is  necessary  to  make 
a  compromise.  As  these  thoughts  formed  in 
my  mind  I  again  seemed  to  hear  the  loud  voice 
of  Sarakoff,  sounding  in  derision  at  my  cau- 
tious views.  A  conflict  arose  in  my  soul.  I 
raised  my  eyes  and  looked  at  Alice.  She  was 
standing  by  the  mantelpiece,  staring  listlessly 
at  the  grate.  A  wave  of  emotion  passed  over 
me.  I  took  a  step  towards  her. 

"Alice!"  And  then  the  words  stuck  in  my 
throat.  She  turned  her  head  and  her  eyes 
questioned  me.  I  tried  to  continue,  but  some- 
thing prevented  me,  and  I  became  suddenly 
calm  again.  "Please  take  me  up  to  your  fa- 
ther," I  begged  her.  She  obeyed  silently,  and 
I  followed  her  upstairs. 

Mr.  Annot  was  lying  in  a  darkened  room 
with  his  eyes  closed.  He  was  a  very  old  man, 
approaching  ninety,  with  a  thin  aquiline  face 
and  white  hair.  He  lay  very  still,  and  at  first 
I  thought  he  was  unconscious.  But  his  pulse 
was  surprisingly  good,  and  his  breathing  deep 
and  regular. 


THE  ILLNESS  OF  MR.  ANNOT         97 

"He  is  sleeping,"  I  murmured. 

She  leaned  over  the  bed. 

"He  scarcely  slept  during  the  night,"  she 
whispered.  "This  will  do  him  good." 

"His  pulse  could  not  be  better,"  I  mur- 
mured. 

She  peered  at  him  more  closely. 

"Isn't  he  very  pale?" 

I  stooped  down,  so  that  my  face  was  close  to 
hers.  The  old  man  certainly  looked  very  pale. 
A  marble-like  hue  lay  over  his  features,  and  yet 
the  skin  was  warm  to  the  touch. 

"How  long  has  he  been  asleep?"  I  asked. 

"He  was  awake  over  an  hour  ago,  when  I 
looked  in  last.  He  said  then  that  he  was  feel- 
ing drowsy." 

"I  think  we'll  wake  him  up." 

Alice  hesitated. 

"Won't  you  wait  for  tea?"  she  whispered. 
"He  would  probably  be  awake  by  then." 

I  shook  my  head. 

"I  must  get  back  to  London  by  five.  Do 
you  mind  if  we  have  a  little  more  light?" 

She  moved  to  the  window  and  raised  the 
blind  half  way.  I  examined  the  old  man 
attentively.  There  was  no  doubt  about  the 


98  THE  BLUE  GERM 

curious  pallor  of  his  skin.  It  was  like  the  pal- 
lor of  extreme  collapse,  save  for  the  presence  of 
a  faint  colour  in  his  cheeks  which  seemed  to 
lie  as  a  bright  transparency  over  a  dead  back- 
ground. My  fingers  again  sought  his  pulse. 
It  was  full  and  steady.  As  I  counted  it  my 
eyes  rested  on  his  hand. 

I  stooped  down  suddenly  with  an  exclama- 
tion. Alice  hurried  to  my  side. 

"Where  did  those  friends  of  his  come  from?" 
I  asked  swiftly. 

"The  Perrys?    From  Birmingham." 

"Was  there  anything  wrong  with  them?" 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

Before  I  could  reply  the  old  man  opened  his 
eyes.  The  light  fell  clearly  on  his  face.  Alice 
uttered  a  cry  of  horror.  I  experienced  an 
extraordinary  sensation  of  fear.  Out  of  the 
marble  pallor  of  Mr.  Annot's  face,  two  eyes, 
stained  a  sparrow-egg  blue,  stared  keenly  at  us. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  RESURRECTION 

FOR  some  moments  none  of  us  spoke. 
Alice  recovered  herself  first. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  him?"  she  gasped. 

I  was  incapable  of  finding  a  suitable  reply, 
and  stood,  tongue-tied,  staring  foolishly  at  the 
old  man.  He  seemed  a  little  surprised  at  our 
behaviour. 

"Dr.  Harden,"  he  said,  "I  am  glad  to  see 
you.  My  daughter  did  not  tell  me  you  were 
coming." 

His  voice  startled  me.  It  was  strong  and 
clear.  On  my  previous  visit  to  him  he  had 
spoken  in  quavering  tones. 

"Oh,  father,  how  do  you  feel?"  exclaimed 
Alice,  kneeling  beside  the  bed. 

"My  dear,  I  feel  extremely  well.  I  have 
not  felt  so  well  for  many  years."  He  stretched 
out  his  hand  and  patted  his  daughter's  head. 
"Yes,  my  sleep  has  done  me  good.  I  should 
like  to  get  up  for  tea." 

99 


100  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"But  your  eyes "  stammered  Alice 

"Can  you  see,  father?" 

"See,  my  dear?  What  does  she  mean,  Dr. 
Harden?" 

"There  is  some  discolouration  of  the  con- 
junctivse,"  I  said  hastily.  "It  is  nothing  to 
worry  about." 

At  that  moment  Alice  caught  sight  of  his 
finger  nails. 

"Look!"  she  cried,  "they're  blue." 

The  old  man  raised  his  hands  and  looked  at 
them  in  astonishment. 

"How  extraordinary,"  he  murmured. 
"What  do  you  make  of  that,  doctor?" 

"It  is  nothing,"  I  assured  him.  "It  is  only 
pigmentation  caused — er — caused  by  some 
harmless  germ." 

"I  know  what  it  is,"  cried  Alice  suddenly. 
"It's  the  Blue  Disease.  Father,  you  remem- 
ber the  Perrys  were  telling  us  about  it  yester- 
day at  lunch.  They  said  it  was  all  over 
Birmingham,  and  that  they  had  come  south 
partly  to  escape  it.  They  must  have  brought 
the  infection  with  them." 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "that  is  certainly  the  explana- 
tion. And  now,  Mr.  Annot,  let  me  assure  you 


THE  RESURRECTION  101 

that  this  disease  is  harmless.  It  has  no  ill  ef- 
fects." 

Mr.  Annot  sat  up  in  bed  with  an  exhibition 
of  vigour  that  was  remarkable  in  a  man  of 
his  age. 

"I  can  certainly  witness  to  the  fact  that  it 
causes  no  ill  effects,  Dr.  Harden,"  he  ex- 
claimed. "This  morning  I  felt  extremely 
weak  and  was  prepared  for  the  end.  But  now 
I  seem  to  have  been  endowed  with  a  fresh  lease 
of  life.  I  feel  young  again.  Do  you  think 
this  Blue  Disease  is  the  cause  of  it?" 

"Possibly.  It  is  difficult  to  say,"  I  answered 
in  some  confusion.  "But  you  must  not  think 
of  getting  up,  Mr.  Annot.  Rest  in  bed  for  the 
next  week  is  essential." 

"Humbug!"  cried  the  old  man,  fixing  his 
brilliant  eyes  upon  me.  "I  am  going  to  get 
up  this  instant." 

"Oh,  father,  please  don't  be  so  foolish  1" 

"Foolish,  child?  Do  you  think  I'm  going 
to  lie  here  when  I  feel  as  if  my  body  and  mind 
had  been  completely  rejuvenated?  I  repeat  I 
am  going  to  get  up.  Nothing  on  earth  will 
keep  me  in  bed." 

The  old  man  began  to  remove  the  bed- 


102  THE  BLUE  GERM 

clothes.  I  made  an  attempt  to  restrain  him, 
but  was  met  by  an  outburst  of  irritation  that 
warned  me  not  to  interfere.  I  motioned  Alice 
to  follow  me,  and  together  we  left  the  room. 
As  we  went  downstairs  I  heard  a  curious  sound 
proceeding  from  Mr.  Annot's  bedroom.  We 
halted  on  the  stairs  and  listened.  The  sound 
became  louder  and  clearer. 

"Father  is  singing,"  said  Alice  in  a  low 
voice.  Then  she  took  out  her  handkerchief 
and  began  to  sob. 

We  continued  our  way  downstairs,  Alice  en- 
deavouring to  stifle  her  sobs,  and  I  in  a  dazed 
condition  of  mind.  I  was  stunned  by  the  fact 
that  that  mad  experiment  of  ours  should  have 
had  such  a  sudden  and  strange  result.  It  pro- 
duced in  me  a  fear  that  was  far  worse  to  bear 
than  the  vague  anxiety  I  had  felt  ever  since 
those  fatal  tubes  of  the  Sarakoff-Harden 
bacillus  had  been  emptied  into  the  lake.  I 
stumbled  into  the  drawing-room  and  threw  my- 
self upon  a  chair.  My  legs  were  weak,  and  my 
hands  were  trembling. 

"Alice,"  I  said,  "you  must  not  allow  this 
to  distress  you.  The  Blue  Disease  is  not 
dangerous." 


THE  RESURRECTION  103 

She  lifted  a  tear-stained  face  and  looked  at 
me  dully. 

"Richard,  I  can't  bear  it  any  longer.  I've 
given  half  my  life  to  looking  after  father.  I 
simply  can't  bear  it." 

I  sat  up  and  stared  at  her.  What  strange 
intuition  had  come  to  her? 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

She  sobbed  afresh. 

"I  can't  endure  the  sight  of  him  with  those 
blue  eyes,"  she  went  on,  rather  wildly. 
"Richard,  I  must  get  away.  I've  never  been 
from  him  for  more  than  a  few  hours  at  a  time 
for  the  last  fifteen  years.  Don't  think  I  want 
him  to  die." 

"I  don't." 

"I'm  glad  he's  better,"  she  remarked  irrele- 
vantly. 

"So  am  I." 

"The  Perrys  were  saying  that  the  doctors 
up  in  Birmingham  think  that  the  Blue  Disease 
cut  short  other  diseases,  and  made  people  feel 
better."  She  twisted  her  handkerchief  for 
some  moments.  "Does  it?"  she  asked,  looking 
at  me  directly. 

"I — er — I  have  heard  it  does." 


104.  THE  BLUE  GERM 

An  idea  had  come  into  my  mind,  and  I  could 
not  get  rid  of  it.  Why  should  I  not  tell  her 
all  that  I  knew? 

"I'm  thirty-five,"  she  remarked. 

"And  I'm  forty-two."     I  tried  to  smile. 

"Life's  getting  on  for  us  both,"  she  added. 

"I  know,  Alice.  I  suggested  that  we  should 
get  engaged  a  short  while  ago.  Now  I  sug- 
gest that  we  get  married — as  soon  as  possible." 
I  got  up  and  paced  the  room.  "Why  not?" 
I  demanded  passionately. 

She  shook  her  head,  and  appeared  confused. 

"It's  impossible.  Who  could  look  after 
him?  I  should  never  be  happy,  Richard,  as 
long  as  he  was  living." 

I  stopped  before  her. 

"Not  with  me?" 

"No,  Richard.  I  should  be  left  a  great  deal 
to  myself.  A  doctor's  wife  always  is.  I've 
thought  it  out  carefully.  I  would  think  of 
him." 

After  a  long  silence,  I  made  a  proposal  that 
I  had  refused  to  entertain  before. 

"Well,  there's  no  reason  why  he  should  not 
come  and  live  with  us.  There  is  plenty  of 


THE  RESURRECTION  105 

room  in  my  house  at  Harley  Street.  Would 
that  do?" 

It  was  a  relief  to  me  when  she  said  that  she 
would  not  consent  to  an  arrangement  of  that 
kind.  I  sat  down  again. 

"Alice,"  I  said  quietly,  "it  is  necessary  that 
we  should  decide  our  future.  There  are  spe- 
cial reasons." 

She  glanced  at  me  enquiringly.  There  was 
a  pause  in  which  I  tried  to  collect  my  thoughts. 

"Your  father,"  I  continued,  "is  suffering 
from  a  very  peculiar  disease.  It  is  wrong,  per- 
haps, to  call  it  a  disease.  You  wouldn't  call 
life  a  disease,  would  you?" 

"I  don't  understand." 

"No,  of  course  not.  Well,  to  put  it  as 
simply  as  possible,  it  is  likely  that  your  father 
will  live  a  long  time  now.  When  he  said  he 
felt  as  if  his  mind  and  body  had  been  re- 
juvenated he  was  speaking  the  truth." 

"But  he  will  be  ninety  next  year,"  she  said 
bluntly. 

"I  know.  But  that  will  make  no  difference. 
This  germ,  that  is  now  in  his  body,  has  the 
power  of  arresting  all  further  decay.  Your 


106  THE  BLUE  GERM 

father  will  remain  as  he  is  now  for  an  indefinite 
period."  * 

I  met  her  eyes  as  steadily  as  I  could,  but 
there  was  a  quality  in  her  gaze  that  caused  me 
to  look  elsewhere. 

"How  do  you  know  this?"  she  asked  after  a 
painful  silence. 

"I— er— I  can't  tell  you."  The  colour 
mounted  to  my  cheeks,  and  I  began  to  tap 
the  carpet  impatiently  with  the  toe  of  my  boot. 
"You  wouldn't  understand,"  I  continued  in  as 
professional  a  manner  as  I  could  muster. 
"You  would  need  first  to  study  the  factors  that 
bring  about  old  age." 

"Where  did  the  Blue  Disease  come  from? 
Tell  me.  I  can  surely  understand  that!" 

"You  have  read  the  paper,  haven't  you?" 

"I've  read  that  no  one  understands  what  it 
is,  and  that  the  doctors  are  puzzled." 

"How  should  I  know  where  it  comes  from?" 

She  regarded  me  searchingly. 

"You  know  something  about  it,"  she  said 
positively.  "Richard,  you  are  keeping  it  back 
from  me.  I  have  a  right  to  know  what  it  is." 

I  was  silent. 

"If  you  don't  tell  me,  how  can  I  trust  you 


THE  RESURRECTION  107 

again?"  she  asked.  "Don't  you  see  that  there 
will  always  be  a  shadow  between  us?" 

It  was  not  difficult  for  me  to  guess  that  my 
guilty  manner  had  roused  her  suspicions.  She 
had  seen  my  agitation,  and  had  found  it  un- 
accountable. I  resolved  to  entrust  her  with 
the  secret  of  the  germ.  J 

"Do  you  remember  that  I  once  told  you  my 
friend,  Professor  Sarakoff,  had  succeeded  in 
keeping  butterflies  alive  for  over  a  year?" 

She  nodded. 

"He  and  I  have  been  experimenting  on 
those  lines  and  he  has  found  a  germ  that  has 
the  property  of  keeping  human  beings  alive  in 
the  same  way.  The  germ  has  escaped  .  .  . 
into  the  world  .  .  .  and  it  is  the  cause  of  the 
Blue  Disease." 

"How  did  it  escape?" 

I  winced.  In  her  voice  I  was  conscious  of 
a  terrible  accusation. 

"By  accident,"  I  stammered. 

She  jumped  to  her  feet. 

"I  don't  believe  it!     That  is  a  lie!" 

"Alice,  you  must  calm  yourself!  I  am  try- 
ing to  tell  you  exactly  what  happened." 

"Was  it  by  accident?" 


108  THE  BLUE  GERM 

The  vision  of  that  secret  expedition  to  the 
water  supply  of  Birmingham  passed  before  me. 
I  felt  like  a  criminal.  I  could  not  raise  my 
eyes ;  my  cheeks  were  burning.  In  the  silence 
that  followed,  the  sound  of  Mr.  Annot's  voice 
became  audible.  Alice  stood  before  me,  rigid 
and  implacable.  * 

"It  was — by  accident,"  I  said.  I  tried  to 
look  at  her,  and  failed.  She  remained  motion- 
less for  about  a  minute.  Then  she  turned 
and  left  the  room.  I  heard  her  go  slowly 
upstairs.  A  door  banged.  Actuated  by  a 
sudden  desire,  I  stepped  into  the  hall,  seized  my 
coat  and  hat  and  opened  the  front  door.  I  was 
just  in  time.  As  I  gently  closed  the  door  I 
heard  Mr.  Annot  on  the  landing  above.  He 
was  singing  some  long-forgotten  tune  in  a 
strange  cracked  voice. 

I  stood  outside  on  the  doorstep,  listening, 
until,  overcome  by  curiosity,  I  bent  down  and 
lifted  the  flap  of  the  letter-box.  The  interior 
of  the  hall  was  plainly  visible.  Mr.  Annot  had 
ceased  singing  and  was  now  standing  before  the 
mirror  which  hung  beside  the  hatstand.  He 
was  a  trifle  unsteady,  and  swayed  on  his  frail 
legs,  but'  he  was  staring  at  himself  with  a  kind 


THE  RESURRECTION  109 

of  savage  intensity.  At  last  he  turned  away 
and  I  caught  the  expression  on  his  face.  .  .  . 
With  a  slight  shiver,  I  let  down  the  flap  noise- 
lessly. There  was  something  in  that  expres- 
sion that  for  me  remains  unnamable;  and  I 
think  now,  as  I  look  back  into  those  past  times, 
that  of  all  the  signs  which  showed  me  that  the 
Sarakoff-Harden  bacillus  was  an  offence 
against  humanity,  that  strange  look  on  the 
nonagenarian's  face  was  the  most  terrible  and 
obvious. 


CHAPTER  XII 
ME.  CLUTTEEBUCK'S  OPINION 

WHEN  I  reached  London  it  was  dusk, 
and  a  light  mist  hung  in  the  darkening 
air.  The  lamps  were  twinkling  in  the  streets. 
I  decided  to  get  some  tea  in  a  restaurant  ad- 
joining the  station.  When  I  entered  it  was 
crowded,  and  the  only  seat  that  was  empty  was 
at  a  small  table  already  occupied  by  another 
man.  I  sat  down,  and  gave  my  order  to  the 
waitress,  and  remained  staring  moodily  at  the 
soiled  marble  surface  of  the  table.  My  neigh- 
bour was  engrossed  in  his  paper. 

During  my  journey  from  Cambridge  I  had 
come  to  a  certain  conclusion.  Sarakoff  was  of 
the  opinion  that  we  should  publish  a  statement 
about  the  germ  of  immortality,  and  now  I  was 
in  agreement  with  him.  For  I  had  been  re- 
flecting upon  the  capacity  of  human  mind  for 
retaining  secrets  and  had  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  it  is  so  constructed  that  its  power 

110 


MR.  CLUTTERBUCK'S  OPINION       111 

of  retention  is  remarkably  small.  I  felt  that 
it  would  be  a  matter  of  extraordinary  relief  if 
everyone  in  that  tea-shop  knew  the  secret  of 
the  Blue  Germ. 

I  began  to  study  the  man  who  sat  opposite 
me.  He  was  a  quietly  dressed  middle-aged 
man.  The  expression  on  his  rather  pale,  clean- 
shaven face  suggested  that  he  was  a  clerk  or 
secretary.  He  looked  reliable,  unimaginative, 
careful  and  methodical.  He  was  reading  his 
newspaper  with  close  attention.  A  cup  of  tea 
and  the  remains  of  a  toasted  muffin  were  at  his 
elbow.  It  struck  me  that  here  was  a  very 
average  type  of  man,  and  an  immense  desire 
seized  upon  me  to  find  out  what  opinion  he 
would  pronounce  if  I  were  to  tell  him  my 
secret.  I  waited  until  he  looked  up. 

"Is  there  any  news?"  I  asked. 

He  observed  me  for  a  moment  as  if  he  re- 
sented my  question. 

"The  Blue  Disease  is  spreading  in  London," 
he  remarked  shortly,  and  returned  to  his  paper. 
I  felt  rebuffed,  but  reflected  that  this,  after  all, 
was  how  an  average  man  might  be  expected  to 
behave. 

"A  curious  business,"  I  continued.     "I  am 


112  THE  BLUE  GERM 

a  doctor,  and  therefore  very  much  interested 
in  it." 

His  manner  changed.  He  assumed  the  atti- 
tude of  the  average  man  towards  a  doctor  at 
once,  and  I  was  gratified  to  observe  it. 

"I  was  just  thinking  I'd  like  to  hear  what  a 
doctor  thinks  ahout  it,"  he  said,  laying  down 
his  paper.  "I  thought  of  calling  in  on  Dr. 
Sykes  on  my  way  home  to-night;  he  attends 
my  wife.  Do  you  know  Dr.  Sykes?" 

"Which  one?"  I  asked  cautiously,  not  will- 
ing to  disappoint  him. 

"Dr.  Sykes  of  Harlesden,"  he  said,  with  a 
look  of  surprise. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  know  Dr.  Sykes.  Why  did  you 
think  of  going  to  see  him?" 

He  smiled  apologetically  and  pointed  to  the 
paper. 

"It  sounds  so  queer  .  .  .  the  disease.  They 
say,  up  in  Birmingham,  that  it's  stopping  all 
diseases  in  the  hospitals  .  .  .  everywhere. 
People  getting  well  all  of  a  sudden.  Now  I 
don't  believe  that." 

"Have  you  seen  a  case  yet?" 

"Yes.  A  woman.  In  the  street  this  after- 
noon as  I  was  coming  from  lunch.  The  police 


MR.  CLUTTERBUCK'S  OPINION      113 

took  her.  She  was  mad,  I  can  tell  you.  There 
was  a  big  crowd.  She  screamed.  I  think  she 
was  drunk."  He  paused,  and  glanced  at  me. 
"What  do  you  think  of  it?" 

I  took  a  deep  breath. 

"I  don't  think,  I  know"  I  said,  in  as  quiet  a 
manner  as  possible.  He  stared  a  moment,  and 
a  nervous  smile  appeared  and  swiftly  vanished. 
He  seemed  uncertain  what  to  do. 

"You've  found  out  something?"  he  asked  at 
length,  playing  with  his  teaspoon  and  keeping 
his  eyes  on  the  table.  I  regarded  him  care- 
fully. I  was  not  quite  certain  if  he  still 
thought  I  was  a  doctor. 

"I'm  not  a  lunatic,"  I  said.  "I'm  merely 
stating  a  rather  extraordinary  fact.  I  know 
all  about  the  germ  of  the  Blue  Disease." 

He  raised  his  eyes  for  an  instant,  and  then 
lowered  them.  His  hand  had  stopped  trifling 
with  the  teaspoon. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "the  doctors  think  it's  due 
to  a  germ  of  some  sort."  He  made  a  sort  of 
effort  and  continued.  "It  is  funny,  some  of 
these  germs  being  invisible  through  micro- 
scopes. Measles  and  chickenpox  and  common 
things  like  that.  They've  never  seen  the  germs 


114.  THE  BLUE  GERM 

that  cause  them,  that's  what  the  papers  say. 
It  seems  odd — having  something  you  can't 
see."  He  turned  his  head,  and  looked  for  his 
hat  that  hung  on  a  peg  behind  him. 

"One  moment,"  I  said.  I  took  out  my  card- 
case.  "I  want  you  to  read  this  card.  Don't 
think  I'm  mad.  I  want  to  talk  to  you  for  a 
particular  reason  which  I'll  explain  in  a  mo- 
ment." He  took  the  card  hesitatingly  and 
read  it.  Then  he  looked  at  me.  "The  reason 
why  I  am  speaking  to  you  is  this,"  I  said.  "I 
want  to  find  out  what  a  decent  citizen  like  your- 
self will  think  of  something  I  know.  It  con- 
cerns the  Blue  Disease  and  its  origin." 

He  seemed  disturbed,  and  took  out  his 
watch. 

"I  ought  to  get  home.    My  wife " 

"Is  your  wife  ill?" 

"Yes." 

"What's  the  matter  with  her?" 

He  frowned. 

"Dr.  Sykes  thinks  it's  lung  trouble." 

"Consumption?" 

He  nodded,  and  an  expression  of  anxiety 
came  over  his  face. 

"Good,"  I  exclaimed.     "Now  listen  to  what 


MR.  CLUTTERBUCK'S  OPINION       115 

I  have  to  say.  Before  the  week  is  out  your 
wife  will  be  cured.  I  swear  it." 

He  said  nothing.  It  was  plain  that  he  was 
still  suspicious. 

"You  read  what  they  say  in  the  papers 
about  the  Blue  Disease  cutting  short  other 
diseases?  Well,  that  Blue  Disease  will  be  all 
over  London  in  a  day  or  two.  Now  do  you 
understand?" 

I  saw  that  I  had  interested  him.  He  settled 
himself  on  his  chair,  and  began  to  examine  me. 
His  gaze  travelled  over  my  face  and  clothes, 
pausing  at  my  cuff-links  and  my  tie  and  collar. 
Then  he  looked  at  my  card  again.  Inwardly 
he  came  to  a  decision. 

"I'm  willing  to  listen  to  what  you've  got  to 
say,"  he  remarked,  "if  you  think  it's  worth 
saying." 

"Thank  you.  I  think  it's  worth  hearing." 
I  leaned  my  arms  on  the  table  in  front  of  me. 
"This  Blue  Disease  is  not  an  accidental  thing. 
It  was  deliberately  planned,  by  two  scientists. 
I  was  one  of  those  scientists." 

"You  can't  plan  a  disease,"  he  remarked, 
after  a  considerable  silence. 

"You're  wrong.    We  found  a  way  of  creat- 


116  THE  BLUE  GERM 

ing  new  germs.  We  worked  at  the  idea  of 
creating  a  particular  kind  of  germ  that  would 
kill  all  other  germs  .  .  .  and  we  were  success- 
ful. Then  we  let  loose  the  germ  on  the 
world." 

"How?" 

"We  infected  the  water  supply  of  Birming- 
ham at  its  orgin  in  Wales." 

I  watched  his  expression  intently. 

"You  mean  that  you  did  this  secretly,  with- 
out knowing  what  the  result  would  be?"  he 
asked  at  last. 

"We  foresaw  the  result  to  a  certain  extent." 

He  thought  for  some  time. 

"But  you  had  no  right  to  infect  a  water 
supply.  That's  criminal,  surely?" 

"It's  criminal  if  the  infection  is  dangerous  to 
people.  If  you  put  cholera  in  a  reservoir,  of 
course  it's  criminal." 

"But  this  germ  .  .  .?" 

"This  germ  does  not  kill  people.  It  kills 
the  germs  in  people." 

"What's  the  difference?" 

"All  the  difference  in  the  world!  It's  like 
this.  .  .  .  By  the  way,  what  is  your  name?" 

"Clutter buck."     The  word  escaped  his  lips 


MR.  CLUTTERBUCK'S  OPINION       117 

by  accident.  He  looked  annoyed.  I  smiled 
reassuringly. 

"It's  like  this,  Mr.  Clutterbuck.  If  you  kill 
all  the  germs  in  a  person's  body,  that  per- 
son doesn't  die.  He  lives  .  .  .  indefinitely. 
Now  do  you  see?" 

"No,  I  don't  see,"  said  Clutterbuck  with 
great  frankness.  "I  don't  understand  what 
you're  driving  at.  You  tell  me  that  you're  a 
doctor  and  you  give  me  a  card  bearing  a  well- 
known  specialist's  name.  Then  you  say  you 
created  a  germ  and  put  it  in  the  Birmingham 
water  supply  and  that  the  result  is  the  Blue 
Disease.  This  germ,  you  say,  doesn't  kill 
people,  but  does  something  else  which  I  don't 
follow.  Now  I  was  taught  that  germs  are 
dangerous  things,  and  it  seems  to  me  that  if 
your  story  is  true — which  I  don't  believe — 
you  are  guilty  of  a  criminal  act."  He  pushed 
back  his  chair  and  reached  for  his  hat.  There 
was  a  flush  on  his  face. 

"Then  you  don't  believe  my  tale?" 

"No,  I'm  sorry,  but  I  don't." 

"Well,  Mr.  Clutterbuck,  will  you  believe  it 
when  you  see  your  wife  restored  to  health  in  a 
few  days'  time?" 


118  THE  BLUE  GERM 

He  paused  and  stared  at  me. 

"What  you  say  is  impossible,"  he  said  slowly. 
"If  you  were  a  doctor  you'd  know  that  as  well 
as  I  do." 

"But  the  reports  in  the  paper?" 

"Oh,  that's  journalistic  rubbish." 

He  picked  up  his  umbrella  and  beckoned  to 
the  waitress.  I  made  a  last  attempt. 

"If  I  take  you  to  my  house  will  you  believe 
me  then?" 

"Look  here,"  he  said  in  an  angry  tone,  "I've 
had  enough  of  this.  I  can't  waste  my  time. 
I'm  sure  of  one  thing  and  that  is  that  you're 
no  doctor.  You've  got  somebody's  card-case. 
You  don't  look  like  a  doctor  and  you  don't 
speak  like  one.  I  should  advise  you  to  be 
careful." 

He  moved  away  from  the  table.  Some 
neighbouring  people  stared  at  me  for  a  mo- 
ment and  then  went  on  eating.  Mr.  Clutter- 
buck  paid  at  the  desk  and  left  the  establish- 
ment. I  had  received  the  verdict  of  the 
average  man. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
THE  DEAD  IMMORTAL 

WHEN  I  reached  home,  Sarakoff  was 
out.  He  had  left  a  message  to  say  he 
would  not  be  in  until  after  midnight,  as  he  was 
going  to  hear  Leonora  sing  at  the  opera,  and 
purposed  to  take  her  to  supper  afterwards. 
Dinner  was  therefore  a  solitary  meal  for  me, 
and  when  it  was  all  over  I  endeavoured  to 
plunge  into  some  medical  literature.  The 
hours  passed  slowly.  It  was  almost  impossible 
to  read,  for  the  process,  to  me,  was  similar  to 
trying  to  take  an  interest  in  a  week-old  news- 
paper. 

The  thought  of  the  bacillus  made  the  pages 
seem  colourless ;  it  dwarfed  all  meaning  in  the 
words.  I  gave  up  the  attempt  and  set  myself 
to  smoking  and  gazing  into  the  fire.  What 
was  I  to  do  about  Alice? 

Midnight  came  and  my  mind  was  still 
seething.  I  knew  sleep  was  out  of  the  question 
and  the  desire  to  walk  assailed  me.  I  put  on 

119 


120  THE  BLUE  GERM 

a  coat  and  hat  and  left  the  house.  It  was  a 
cold  night,  clear  with  stars.  Harley  Street 
was  silent.  My  footsteps  led  me  south  towards 
the  river.  I  walked  rapidly,  oblivious  of 
others.  The  problem  of  Alice  was  beyond 
solution,  for  the  simple  reason  that  I  found 
it  impossible  to  think  of  her  clearly.  She  was 
overshadowed  by  the  wonder  of  the  bacillus. 
But  the  picture  of  her  father  haunted  me.  It 
filled  me  with  strange  emotions,  and  at  mo- 
ments with  stranger  misgivings. 

There  are  meanings,  dimly  caught  at  the 
time,  which  remain  in  the  mind  like  blind 
creatures,  mewing  and  half  alive.  They  pluck 
at  the  brain  ceaselessly,  seeking  birth  in 
thought.  Old  Annot's  face  peering  into  the 
hall  mirror — what  was  it  that  photographed 
the  scene  so  pitilessly  in  my  memory?  I  hur- 
ried along,  scarcely  noticing  where  I  went,  and 
as  I  went  I  argued  with  myself  aloud. 

On  the  Embankment  I  returned  to  a  full 
sense  of  my  position  in  space.  The  river  ran 
beneath  me,  cold  and  dark.  I  leaned  over  the 
stone  balustrade  and  stared  at  the  dark  forms 
of  barges.  Yes,  it  was  true  enough  that  I 
had  not  realized  that  the  germ  would  keep 


THE  DEAD  IMMORTAL 

Mr.  Annot  alive  indefinitely.  Sarakoff' s 
significant  whistle  that  morning  came  to  my 
mind,  and  I  saw  that  I  had  been  guilty  of 
singular  denseness  in  not  understanding  its 
meaning. 

And  now  old  Annot  would  live  on  and  on, 
year  after  year.  Was  I  glad?  It  is  impos- 
sible to  say.  It  was  that  expression  in  the  old 
man's  face  that  dominated  me.  I  tried  to 
think  it  out.  It  had  been  a  triumphant  look; 
and  more  than  that  ...  a  triumphant  tooth- 
less look.  Was  that  the  solution?  I  reflected 
that  triumph  is  an  expression  that  belongs  to 
youth,  to  young  things,  to  all  that  is  striving 
upwards  in  growth.  Surely  old  people  should 
look  only  patient  and  resigned — never  tri- 
umphant— in  this  world?  Some  strong  ac- 
tion with  regard  to  Alice's  position  would  be 
necessary.  It  was  absurd  to  think  that  her 
father  should  eternally  come  between  her  and 
me.  It  would  be  necessary  to  go  down  to 
Cambridge  and  make  a  clean  confession  to 
Alice.  And  then,  when  forgiven,  I  would  in- 
sist on  an  immediate  arrangement  concerning 
our  marriage.  Marriage !  The  word  vibrated 
in  my  soul.  The  solemnity  of  that  ceremony 


128  THE  BLUE  GERM 

was  great  enough  to  mere  mortals,  but  what 
would  it  mean  to  us  when  we  were  immorUls? 
Sarakoff  had  hinted  at  a  new  marriage  system. 
Was  such  a  thing  possible?  On  what  factors 
did  marriage  rest?  Was  it  merely  a  discipline 
or  was  it  ultimately  selfishness? 

My  agitation  increased,  and  I  hurried  east- 
wards, soon  entering  an  area  of  riverside  Lon- 
don that,  had  I  been  calmer,  might  have  given 
me  some  alarm.  It  must  have  been  about  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning  when  the  pressure  of 
thoughts  relaxed  in  my  mind.  I  found  myself 
in  the  great  dock  area.  The  forms  of  giant 
cranes  rose  dimly  in  the  air.  A  distant  glare 
of  light,  where  nightshifts  were  at  work,  illumi- 
nated the  huge  shapes  of  ocean  steamers. 
The  quays  were  littered  with  crates  and  bales. 
A  clanking  of  buffers  and  the  shrill  whistles  of 
locomotives  came  out  of  the  darkness.  For 
some  time  I  stood  transfixed.  In  my  imagina- 
tion I  saw  these  big  ships,  laden  with  cargo, 
slipping  down  the  Thames  and  out  into  the 
sea,  carrying  with  them  an  added  cargo  to 
every  part  of  the  earth.  For  by  them  would 
the  Blue  Germ  travel  over  the  waterways 


THE  DEAD  IMMORTAL  123 

of  the  world  and  enter  every  port.  From  the 
ports  it  would  spread  swiftly  into  the  towns, 
and  from  the  towns  onwards  across  plain  and 
prairie  until  the  gift  of  Immortality  had  been 
received  by  every  human  being.  The  vision 
thrilled  me.  .  .  . 

A  commotion  down  a  side  street  on  my 
right  shattered  this  glorious  picture.  Hoarse 
cries  rang  out,  and  a  sound  of  blows.  I  could 
make  out  a  small  dark  struggling  mass  which 
seemed  to  break  into  separate  parts  and  then 
coalesce  again.  A  police  whistle  sounded. 
The  mass  again  broke  up,  and  some  figures 
came  rushing  down  the  street  in  my  direction. 
They  passed  me  in  a  flash,  and  vanished.  At 
the  far  end  of  the  street  two  twinkling  lights 
appeared.  After  a  period  of  hesitation — 
what  doctor  goes  willingly  into  the  accidents 
of  the  streets? — I  walked  slowly  in  their  direc- 
tion. 

When  I  reached  them  I  found  two  policemen 
bending  over  the  body  of  a  man,  which  lay  in 
the  gutter  face  downwards. 

"Good  evening,"  I  said.  "Can  I  be  of  any 
service?  I  am  a  doctor." 


124.  THE  BLUE  GERM 

They  shone  their  lamps  on  me  suspiciously. 
"What  are  you  doing  here?" 

"Walking,"  I  replied.  Exercise  had  calmed 
me.  I  felt  cool  and  collected.  "I  often  walk 
far  at  night.  Let  me  see  the  body." 

I  stooped  down  and  turned  the  body  over. 
The  policemen  watched  me  in  silence.  The 
body  was  that  of  a  young,  fair-haired  sailor 
man.  There  was  a  knife  between  his  ribs. 
His  eyes  were  screwed  up  into  a  rigid  state  of 
contraction  which  death  had  not  yet  relaxed. 
His  whole  body  was  rigid.  I  knew  that  the 
knife  had  pierced  his  heart.  But  the  most 
extraordinary  thing  about  him  was  his  expres- 
sion. I  have  never  looked  on  a  face  either 
in  life  or  death  that  expressed  such  terror. 
Even  the  policemen  were  startled.  The  light 
of  their  lamps  shone  on  that  monstrous  and 
distorted  countenance,  and  we  gazed  in  horri- 
fied silence. 

"Is  he  dead?"  asked  one  at  last. 

"Quite  dead,"  I  replied,  "but  it  is  odd  to 
find  this  rigidity  so  early."  I  began  to  press 
his  eyelids  apart.  The  right  eye  opened.  I 
uttered  a  cry  of  astonishment. 

"Look!"  I  cried. 


THE  DEAD  IMMORTAL  125 

They  stared. 

"Blest  if  that  ain't  queer,"  said  one.  "It's 
that  Blue  Disease.  He  must  'ave  come  from 
Birmingham." 

"Queer?"  I  said  passionately.  "Why,  man, 
it's  tragedy — unadulterated  tragedy.  The 
man  was  an  Immortal." 

They  stared  at  me  heavily. 

"Immortal?"  said  one. 

"He  would  have  lived  for  ever,"  I  said. 
"In  his  system  there  is  the  most  marvellous 
germ  that  the  world  has  ever  known.  It  was 
circulating  in  his  blood.  It  had  penetrated  to 
every  part  of  his  body.  A  few  minutes  ago, 
as  he  walked  along  the  dark  street,  he  had 
before  him  a  future  of  unnumbered  years. 
And  now  he  lies  in  the  gutter.  Can  you 
imagine  a  greater  tragedy?" 

The  policemen  transferred  their  gaze  from 
me  to  the  dead  man.  Then,  as  if  moved  by 
a  common  impulse,  they  began  to  laugh.  I 
watched  them  moodily,  plunged  in  an  extraor- 
dinary vein  of  thought.  When  I  moved  away 
they  at  once  stopped  me. 

"No,  you  don't,"  said  one.  "We'll  want  you 
at  the  police  station  to  give  your  evidence. 


126  THE  BLUE  GERM 

Not,"  he  continued  with  a  grin,  "to  tell  that 
bit  of  information  you  just  gave  us,  about  him 
being  an  angel  or  something." 

"I  didn't  say  he  was  an  angel." 

They  laughed  tolerantly.  Like  Mr.  Clut- 
terbuck,  they  thought  I  was  mad. 

"Let's  hope  he's  an  angel,"  said  the  other. 
"But,  by  his  face,  he  looks  more  like  the  other 
thing.  Bill,  you  go  round  for  the  ambulance. 
I'll  stay  with  the  gentleman." 

The  policeman  moved  away  ponderously  and 
vanished  in  the  darkness. 

"What  was  that  you  were  saying,  sir?"  asked 
the  policeman  who  remained  with  me. 

"Never  mind,"  I  muttered,  "you  wouldn't 
understand." 

"I'm  interested  in  religious  matters,"  con- 
tinued the  policeman  in  a  soft  voice.  "You 
think  that  the  Blue  Disease  is  something  out 
of  the  common?" 

I  am  never  surprised  at  London  policemen, 
but  I  looked  at  this  one  closely  before  I  replied. 

"You  seem  a  reasonable  man,"  I  said.  "Let 
me  tell  you  that  what  I  have  told  you  about 
the  germ — that  it  confers  immortality — is  cor- 
rect. In  a  day  or  two  you  will  be  immortal." 


THE  DEAD  IMMORTAL  127 

He  seemed  to  reflect  in  a  calm  massive  way 
on  the  news.  His  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  dead 
man's  face. 

"An  Immortal  Policeman?" 

"Yes." 

"You're  asking  me  to  believe  a  lot,  sir." 

"I  know  that.  But  still,  there  it  is.  It's 
the  truth." 

"And  what  about  crime?"  he  continued. 
"If  we  were  all  Immortals,  what  about  crime?" 

"Crime  will  become  so  horrible  in  its  mean- 
ing that  it  will  stop." 

"It  hasn't  stopped  yet.  .  .  ." 

"Of  course  not.  It  won't,  till  people  realize 
they  are  immortal." 

He  shifted  his  lantern  and  shone  it  down  the 
road. 

"Well,  sir,  it  seems  to  me  it  will  be  a  long 
time  before  people  realize  that.  In  fact,  I 
don't  see  how  anyone  could  ever  realize  it." 

"Why  not?" 

"Just  think,"  he  said,  with  a  large  air. 
"Supposing  crime  died  out,  what  would  hap- 
pen to  the  Sunday  papers?  Where  would 
those  lawyers  be?  What  would  we  do  with 
policemen?  No,  you  can't  realize  it.  You 


128  THE  BLUE  GERM 

can't  realize  the  things  you  exist  for  all  vanish- 
ing. It's  not  human  nature."  He  brooded 
for  a  time.  "You  can't  do  away  with  crime," 
he  continued.  "What's  behind  crime? 
Woman  and  gold — one  or  the  other,  or  both. 
Now  you  don't  mean  to  tell  me,  sir,  that  the 
Blue  Disease  is  doing  away  with  women  and 
gold  in  a  place  like  Birmingham?  Why,  sir, 
what  made  Birmingham?  What  do  you  sup- 
pose life  is?" 

"I  have  never  been  asked  the  question  be- 
fore by  a  policeman,"  I  said.  "I  do  not  know 
what  made  Birmingham,  but  I  will  tell  you 
what  life  is.  It  is  ultimately  a  cell,  containing 
protoplasm  and  a  nucleus." 

A  low  rumbling  noise  began  somewhere  in 
his  vast  bulk.  It  gradually  increased  to  a  roar. 
I  became  aware  that  he  was  laughing.  He 
held  his  sides.  I  thought  his  shining  belt 
would  burst.  At  length  his  hilarity  slowly 
subsided,  and  he  became  sober.  He  surveyed 
the  dead  body  at  his  feet. 

"No,  sir,"  he  said,  "don't  you  believe  it. 
Life  is  women  and  gold.  It  always  was  that, 
and  it  always  will  be."  He  shone  his  lamp 
downwards  so  that  the  light  fell  on  the  terrible 


THE  DEAD  IMMORTAL  129 

features  of  the  dead  sailor.  "Now  this  man, 
sir,  was  killed  because  of  money,  I'll  wager. 
And  behind  the  money  I  reckon  you'll  find 
a  woman."  He  mused  for  a  time.  "Not 
necessarily  a  pretty  woman,  but  a  woman  of 
some  sort." 

"How  do  you  account  for  that  look  of  fear 
on  his  face?" 

"I  couldn't  say.  I've  never  seen  anything 
like  it.  I've  seen  a  lot  of  dead  faces,  but  they 
are  usually  quiet  enough,  as  if  they  were  asleep. 
But  I'll  tell  you  one  thing,  sir,  that  I  have 
noticed,  and  that  is  that  money — which  in- 
cludes diamonds  and  such  like,  makes  a  man 
die  worse  and  more  bitter  than  anything  else." 

He  turned  his  lantern  down  the  street.  A 
sound  of  wheels  reached  us. 

"That's  the  ambulance." 

"Will  you  really  require  me  at  the  police 
station?"  I  asked. 

"Yes." 

"Will  it  be  necessary  to  prove  who  I  am?" 

He  smiled. 

"You  won't  need  to  prove  that  you're  a 
doctor,  sir,"  he  said  genially.  "We  have  a 
lot  to  do  with  doctors.  I  could  tell  you  were  a 


130  THE  BLUE  GERM 

doctor  after  talking  a  minute  with  you.  You 
are  all  the  same." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Well — it's  the  things  you  say.  Now  only 
a  doctor  could  have  said  what  you  did — about 
life  being  a  cell.  Do  you  know,  sir,  I  some- 
times believe  that  doctors  is  more  innocent 
than  parsons.  It's  the  things  they  say.  ..." 

The  low  rumbling  began  again  in  his  interior. 
I  waited  silently  until  the  ambulance  came  up. 
I  felt  a  slight  shade  of  annoyance.  But  how 
could  I  expect  the  enormous  uneducated  bulk 
beside  me  to  take  a  really  intelligent  and 
scientific  view  of  life?  Of  course  life  was  a 
cell.  Every  educated  person  knew  that — and 
now  that  cell  was,  for  the  first  time  in  history, 
about  to  become  immortal — but  what  did  the 
policeman  care?  How  stupid  people  were,  I 
reflected.  We  moved  off  in  a  small  procession 
towards  the  police  station.  Half  an  hour  later 
I  was  on  my  way  west,  deeply  pondering  on 
the  causes  of  that  extraordinary  expression  of 
fear  in  the  dead  sailor's  face.  Never  in  my 
life  before  had  I  seen  so  agonized  a  counte- 
nance, but  I  was  destined  to  see  others  as  ter- 
rible. As  I  walked,  the  strangeness  of  the 


THE  DEAD  IMMORTAL  131 

dead  man's  tragedy  grew  in  my  mind  and  filled 
me  with  a  tremendous  wonder,  for  who  had 
ever  seen  a  dead  Immortal? 

On  reaching  home  I  roused  Sarakoff  and 
related  to  him  what  I  had  seen. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  OF   IMMORTALITY 

AFTER  two  hours  of  sleep  I  awoke.  My 
brief  rest  had  been  haunted  by  unpleasant 
dreams,  vague  and  indefinite,  but  seeming  to 
centre  about  the  idea  of  an  impending  catas- 
trophe. I  lay  in  bed  staring  at  the  dimly  out- 
lined window.  I  felt  quite  rested  and  very 
wide  awake.  For  some  time  I  remained  mo- 
tionless, reflecting  on  my  night  adventures  and 
idly  thinking  whether  it  was  worth  while  get- 
ting up  and  attending  to  some  correspondence 
that  was  overdue.  The  prospect  of  a  chilly 
study  was  not  attractive.  And  then  I  noticed 
a  very  peculiar  sensation. 

There  is  only  one  thing  that  I  can  compare 
it  with.  After  a  day  of  exhausting  work  a 
glass  of  champagne  produces  in  me  an  almost 
immediate  effect.  I  feel  as  if  the  worries  of 
the  day  are  suddenly  removed  to  a  great  and 
blessed  distance.  A  happy  indifference  takes 
their  place.  I  felt  the  same  effect  as  I  lay  in 

132 


IMPRESSIONS  OF  IMMORTALITY     133 

bed  on  that  dreary  winter's  morning.  The 
idea  that  I  should  get  up  and  work  retreated 
swiftly.  A  pleasant  sense  of  languor  came 
over  me.  My  eyes  closed  and  for  some  time 
I  lay  in  a  blissful  state  of  peace,  such  as  I  had 
never  experienced  before  so  far  as  my  memory 
could  tell. 

I  do  not  know  how  long  I  lay  in  this  state, 
but  at  length  a  persistent  noise  made  me  open 
my  eyes.  I  looked  round.  It  seemed  to  be 
full  daylight  now.  The  first  thing  I  noticed 
was  the  unusual  size  of  the  room.  The  ceiling 
seemed  far  above  my  head.  The  walls  seemed 
to  have  receded  many  feet.  In  my  astonish- 
ment I  uttered  an  exclamation.  The  result 
was  startling.  My  voice  seemed  to  reverber- 
ate and  re-echo  as  if  I  had  shouted  with  all  my 
strength.  Considerably  startled,  I  remained 
in  a  sitting  posture,  gazing  at  my  unfamiliar 
surroundings.  The  persistent  noise  that  had 
first  roused  me  continued,  and  for  a  long  time 
I  could  not  account  for  it.  It  appeared  to 
come  from  under  my  bed.  I  leaned  over  the 
edge,  but  could  see  nothing.  And  then,  in  a 
flash,  I  knew  what  it  was.  It  was  the  sound 
of  my  watch,  that  lay  under  my  pillow. 


134,  THE  BLUE  GERM 

,  I  drew  it  out  and  stared  at  it  in  a  state  of 
mystification.  Each  of  its  ticks  sounded  like  a 
small  hammer  striking  sharply  against  a  metal 
plate.  I  held  it  to  my  ear  and  was  almost 
deafened.  For  a  moment  I  wondered  whether 
I  were  not  in  the  throes  of  some  acute  nervous 
disorder,  in  which  the  senses  became  sharpened 
to  an  incredible  degree.  Such  an  exultation  of 
perception  could  only  be  due  to  some  powerful 
intoxicant  at  work  on  my  body.  Was  I  going 
mad?  I  laid  the  watch  on  the  counterpane  and 
in  the  act  of  doing  it,  the  explanation  burst  on 
my  mind.  For  the  recollection  of  Mr.  Herbert 
Wain  and  the  Clockdrum  suddenly  came  to  me. 
I  flung  aside  the  bedclothes,  ran  to  the  window 
and  drew  the  curtains.  The  radiance  of  the 
day  almost  blinded  me.  I  pressed  my  hands 
to  my  eyes  in  a  kind  of  agony,  feeling  that  they 
had  been  seared  and  destroyed,  and  dropped 
on  my  knees.  I  remained  in  this  position  for 
over  a  minute  and  then  gradually  withdrew 
my  hands  and  gazed  at  the  carpet.  I  dared  not 
look  up  yet.  The  pattern  of  the  carpet  glowed 
in  colours  more  brilliant  than  I  had  ever  seen 
before.  As  I  knelt  there,  in  attitude  of  prayer, 
it  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  never  noticed 


IMPRESSIONS  OF  IMMORTALITY     135 

colour  before;  that  all  my  life  had  been  passed 
without  any  consciousness  of  colour.  At  last 
I  lifted  my  sight  from  the  miracle  of  the  carpet 
to  the  miracle  of  the  day.  High  overhead, 
through  the  dingy  windowpane,  was  a  patch  of 
clear  sky,  infinitely  sweet,  remote  and  inacces- 
sible, framed  by  golden  clouds.  As  I  gazed  at 
it  an  indescribable  reverence  and  joy  filled  my 
mind.  In  the  purity  of  the  morning  light,  it 
seemed  the  most  lovely  and  wonderful  thing  I 
had  ever  beheld.  And  I,  Richard  Harden, 
consulting  physician  who  had  hitherto  looked 
on  life  through  a  microscope,  remained  kneel- 
ing on  my  miraculous  carpet,  gazing  upwards 
at  the  miraculous  heavens.  Acting  on  some 
strange  impulse  I  stretched  out  my  hands,  and 
then  I  saw  something  which  turned  me  into  a 
rigid  statue. 

It  was  in  this  attitude  that  Sarakoff  found 
me. 

He  entered  my  room  violently.  His  hair 
was  tousled  and  his  beard  stuck  out  at  a  gro- 
tesque angle.  He  was  clad  in  pink  pyjamas, 
and  in  his  hand  he  carried  a  silver-backed  mir- 
ror. My  attitude  did  not  seem  to  cause  him 
any  surprise.  The  door  slammed  behind  him, 


136  THE  BLUE  GERM 

with  a  noise  of  thunder,  and  he  rushed  across 
the  room  to  where  I  knelt,  and  stooping,  exam- 
ined my  finger  nails  at  which  I  was  staring. 

"Good!"  he  shouted.  "Good!  Harden, 
you've  got  it  too !" 

He  pointed  triumphantly.  Under  the  nails 
there  was  a  faint  tinge  of  blue,  and  at  the  nail- 
bed  this  was  already  intense,  forming  little 
crescent-shaped  areas  of  vivid  turquoise. 

Sarakoff  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  my  bed 
and  studied  himself  attentively  in  the  hand 
mirror. 

"A  slight  pallor  is  perceptible  in  the  skin," 
he  announced  as  if  he  was  dictating  a  note  for 
a  medical  journal,  "and  this  is  due,  no  doubt, 
to  a  deposit  of  the  blue  pigment  in  the  deeper 
layers  of  the  epidermis.  The  hair  is  at  present 
unaffected  save  at  the  roots.  God  knows  what 
colour  blond  hair  will  become.  I  am  anxious 
about  Leonora.  The  expression — I  suppose  I 
can  regard  myself  as  a  typical  case,  Harden — 
is  serene,  if  not  animated.  Subjectively,  one 
may  observe  a  great  sense  of  exhilaration 
coupled  with  an  extraordinary  increase  in  the 
power  of  perception.  You,  for  example,  look 
to  me  quite  different." 


IMPRESSIONS  OF  IMMORTALITY     137 

"In  what  way?"  I  demanded. 

"Well,  as  you  kneel  there,  I  notice  in  you 
a  kind  of  angular  grandeur,  a  grotesque  touch 
of  the  sublime,  that  was  not  evident  to  me  be- 
fore. If  I  were  a  sculptor,  I  would  like  to 
model  you  like  that.  I  cannot  explain  why — I 
am  just  saying  what  I  feel.  I  have  never  felt 
any  impulse  towards  art  until  this  morning." 
He  twisted  his  moustache.  "Yes,  you  have 
quite  an  interesting  face,  Harden.  I  can  see 
in  it  evidence  that  you  have  suffered  intensely. 
You  have  taken  life  too  seriously.  You  have 
worked  too  hard.  You  are  stunted  and  de- 
formed with  work." 

I  regarded  him  with  some  astonishment. 

"Work  is  all  very  well,"  he  continued,  "but 
this  morning  I  see  with  singular  clarity  that  it 
is  only  a  means  of  development.  My  dear 
Harden,  if  it  is  overdone,  it  simply  dwarfs  the 
soul.  Our  generation  has  not  recognized  this 
properly." 

"But  you  were  always  an  apostle  of  hard 
work,"  I  remarked  irritably. 

"Maybe."  He  made  a  gesture  of  dismissal. 
"Now,  I  am  an  Immortal,  and  you  are  an 
Immortal.  The  background  to  life  has 


138  THE  BLUE  GERM 

changed.  Formerly,  the  idea  of  death  lurked 
constantly  in  the  depths  of  the  unconscious 
mind,  and  by  its  vaguely-felt  influences  spurred 
us  on  to  continual  exertion.  That  is  all 
changed.  We  have,  at  one  stroke,  removed 
this  dire  spectre.  We  are  free." 

He  rose  suddenly  and  flung  the  mirror  across 
the  room. 

"What  do  we  need  mirrors  for?"  he  cried. 
"It  is  only  when  we  fear  death  that  we  need 
mirrors  to  tell  us  how  long  we  have  to  live." 
He  strode  over  to  me  and  halted.  "You  seem 
in  no  hurry  to  get  up  from  that  carpet,"  he 
observed.  His  remark  made  me  realize  that  I 
had  been  kneeling  for  some  minutes.  Now 
this  was  rather  odd.  I  am  restless  by  nature 
and  rarely  remain  in  one  position  for  any 
length  of  time,  and  to  stay  like  that,  kneeling 
before  the  window,  was  indeed  curious.  I  got 
up  and  moved  to  the  dressing-table,  thinking. 
Sarakoff  must  have  been  thinking  in  the  same 
direction,  for  he  asked  me  a  question. 

"Did  you  realize  you  were  kneeling?" 

"Yes,"  I  replied.  "I  knew  what  I  was  do- 
ing. It  merely  did  not  occur  to  me  that  I 
should  change  my  position." 


IMPRESSIONS  OF  IMMORTALITY     139 

"The  explanation  is  simple,"  said  the  Rus- 
sian. "Restlessness,  or  the  idea  that  we  must 
change  our  position,  or  that  we  should  be  doing 
something  else,  belongs  to  the  anxious  side  of 
life;  and  the  anxious  side  of  life  is  nourished 
and  kept  vigorous  by  the  latent  fear  of  death. 
All  that  is  removed  from  you,  and  therefore 
you  see  no  reason  why  you  should  do  anything 
until  it  pleases  you." 

I  began  to  study  myself  in  the  glass  on  the 
dressing-table.  The  examination  interested 
me  immensely.  There  was  certainly  a  marble- 
like  hue  about  the  skin.  The  whites  of  my  eyes 
were  distinctly  stained,  but  not  so  intensely  as 
had  been  the  case  with  Mr.  Herbert  Wain, 
showing  that  I  had  not  suffered  from  the  Blue 
Disease  as  long  as  he  had.  But  when  I  began 
to  study  my  reflection  from  the  aesthetic  point 
of  view,  I  became  deeply  engrossed. 

"I  don't  agree  with  you,  Sarakoff,"  I  re- 
marked at  length.  "We  still  need  mirrors. 
In  fact  I  have  never  found  the  mirror  so  inter- 
esting in  my  life." 

"Don't  use  that  absurd  phrase,"  he  answered. 
"It  implies  that  something  other  than  life 
exists." 


140  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"So  it  does." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Well,  if  I  stick  this  pair  of  scissors  into 
your  heart  you  will  die,  my  dear  fellow."  He 
was  silent,  and  a  frown  began  to  gather  on  his 
brow.  "Yes,"  I  continued,  "your  psychologi- 
cal deductions  are  not  entirely  valid.  The  fear 
of  death  still  exists,  but  now  limited  to  a  small 
sphere.  In  that  sphere,  it  will  operate  with 
extreme  intensity."  I  picked  up  the  scissors 
and  made  a  stealthy  movement  towards  him. 
To  my  amazement  I  obtained  an  immediate 
proof  of  my  theory.  He  sprang  up  with  a 
loud  cry,  darted  to  the  door  and  vanished.  For 
a  moment  I  stood  in  a  state  of  bewilderment. 
Was  it  possible  that  he,  with  all  his  size  and 
strength,  was  afraid  of  me?  And  then  a  great 
fit  of  laughter  overcame  me  and  I  sank  down 
on  my  bed  with  the  tears  coming  from  my 
eyes. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  TERRIBLE  FEAR 

ON  coming  down  to  breakfast,  I  found 
Sarakoff  already  seated  at  the  table  de- 
vouring the  morning  papers.  I  picked  up  a 
discarded  one  and  stood  by  the  fire,  glancing 
over  its  contents.  There  was  only  one  subject 
of  news,  and  that  was  the  spread  of  the  Blue 
Disease.  From  every  part  of  the  north  cases 
were  reported,  and  in  London  it  had  broken 
out  in  several  districts. 

"So  it's  all  come  true,"  I  remarked. 

He  nodded,  and  continued  reading.  I  saun- 
tered to  the  window.  A  thin  driving  snow  was 
now  falling,  and  the  passers-by  were  hurrying 
along  in  the  freezing  slush,  with  collars  turned 
up  and  heads  bowed  before  the  wind. 

"This  is  an  ideal  day  to  spend  indoors  by  the 
fireside,"  I  observed.  "I  think  I'll  telephone 
to  the  hospital  and  tell  Jones  to  take  my  work." 

141 


Sarakoff  raised  his  eyes,  and  then  his  eye- 
brows. 

"So,"  he  said,  "the  busy  man  suddenly  thinks 
work  a  bother.  The  power  of  the  germ,  Har- 
den, is  indeed  miraculous." 

"Do  you  think  my  inclination  is  due  to  the 
germ?" 

"Beyond  a  doubt.  You  were  the  most  over- 
conscientious  man  I  ever  knew  until  this 
morning." 

For  some  reason  I  found  this  observation 
very  interesting.  I  wished  to  discuss  it,  and  I 
was  about  to  reply  when  the  door  opened  and 
my  housemaid  announced  that  Dr.  Symington- 
Tearle  was  in  the  hall  and  would  like  an  im- 
mediate interview. 

"Shew  him  in,"  I  said  equably.  Symington- 
Tearle  usually  had  a  most  irritating  effect  upon 
me,  but  at  the  moment  I  felt  totally  indifferent 
to  him.  He  entered  in  his  customary  manner, 
as  if  the  whole  of  London  were  feverishly 
awaiting  him.  I  introduced  Sarakoff,  but 
Symington-Tearle  hardly  noticed  him. 

"Harden,"  he  exclaimed  in  his  loud  domi- 
nating tones,  "I  am  convinced  that  there  is  no 
such  thing  as  this  Blue  Disease.  I  believe  it 


THE  TERRIBLE  FEAR  143 

all  to  be  a  colossal  plant.  Some  practical 
joker  has  introduced  a  chemical  into  the  water 
supply." 

"Probably,"  I  murmured,  still  thinking  of 
Sarakoff 's  observation. 

"I'm  going  to  expose  the  whole  thing  in  the 
evening  papers ;  I  examined  a  case  yesterday — 
a  man  called  Wain — and  was  convinced  there 
was  nothing  wrong  with  him.  He  was  really 
pigmented.  And  what  is  it  but  mere  pigmen- 
tation?" He  passed  his  hand  over  his  brow 
and  frowned.  "Yes,  yes,"  he  continued, 
"that's  what  it  is — a  colossal  joke.  We've  all 
been  taken  in  by  it — everyone  except  me." 
He  sat  down  by  the  breakfast  table  suddenly 
and  once  more  passed  his  hand  over  his 
brow. 

"What  was  I  saying?"  he  asked. 

Sarakoff  and  I  were  now  watching  him  in- 
tently. 

"That  the  Blue  Disease  was  a  joke,"  I  said. 

"Ah,  yes — a  joke."  He  looked  up  at  Sara- 
koff and  stared  for  a  moment.  "Do  you 
know,"  he  said,  "I  believe  it  really  is  a  joke." 

An  expression  of  intense  solemnity  came 
over  his  face,  and  he  sat  motionless  gazing  in 


144  THE  BLUE  GERM 

front  of  him  with  unblinking  eyes.  I  crossed 
to  where  he  sat  and  peered  at  his  face. 

"I  thought  so,"  I  remarked.  "You've  got 
it  too." 

"Got  what?" 

"The  Blue  Disease.  I  suppose  you  caught 
it  from  Wain,  as  we  did."  I  picked  up  one 
of  his  hands  and  pointed  to  the  faintly-tinted 
fingernails.  Dr.  Symington-Tearle  stared  at 
them  with  an  air  of  such  child-like  simplicity 
and  gravity  that  Sarakoff  and  I  broke  into  loud 
laughter. 

The  humour  of  the  situation  passed  with  a 
peculiar  suddenness  and  we  ceased  laughing 
abruptly.  I  sat  down  at  the  table,  and  for 
some  time  the  three  of  us  gazed  at  one  another 
and  said  nothing.  The  spirit-lamp  that  heated 
the  silver  dish  of  bacon  upon  the  table  spurted 
at  intervals  and  I  saw  Symington-Tearle  stare 
at  it  in  faint  surprise. 

"Does  it  sound  very  loud?"  asked  Sarakoff 
at  length. 

"Extraordinarily  loud.  And  upon  my  soul 
your  voice  nearly  deafens  me." 

"It  will  pass,"  I  said.     "One  gets  adjusted 


THE  TERRIBLE  FEAR  145 

to  the  extreme  sensitiveness  in  a  short  time. 
How  do  you  feel?" 

"I  feel,"  said  Symington-Tearle  slowly,  "as 
if  I  were  newly  constructed  from  the  crown  of 
my  head  to  the  soles  of  my  feet.  After  a 
Turkish  bath  and  twenty  minutes'  massage  I've 
experienced  a  little  of  the  feeling." 

He  stared  at  Sarakoff,  then  at  me,  and  fi- 
nally at  the  spirit  lamp.  We  must  have  pre- 
sented an  odd  spectacle.  For  there  we  sat, 
three  men  who,  under  ordinary  circumstances, 
were  extremely  busy  and  active,  lolling  round 
the  unfinished  breakfast  table  while  the  hands 
of  the  clock  travelled  relentlessly  onward. 

Relentlessly?  That  was  scarcely  correct. 
To  me,  owing  to  some  mysterious  change  that 
I  cannot  explain,  the  clock  had  ceased  to  be  a 
tyrannous  and  hateful  monster.  I  did  not  care 
how  fast  it  went  or  to  what  hour  it  pointed. 
Time  was  no  longer  precious,  any  more  than 
the  sand  of  the  sea  is  precious. 

"Aren't  you  going  to  have  any  breakfast?" 
asked  Symington-Tearle. 

"I'm  not  in  the  least  hurry,"  replied  Sara- 
koff. "I  think  I'll  take  a  sip  of  coffee.  Are 
you  hungry,  Harden?" 


146  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"No.  I  don't  want  anything  save  coffee. 
But  I'm  in  no  hurry." 

My  housemaid  entered  and  announced  that 
the  gentleman  who  had  been  waiting  in  Dr. 
Symington-Tearle's  car,  and  was  now  in  the 
hall,  wished  to  know  if  the  doctor  would  be  long. 

"Oh,  that  is  a  patient  of  mine,"  said  Sym- 
ington-Tearle,  "ask  him  to  come  in." 

A  large,  stout,  red-faced  gentleman  entered, 
wrapped  in  a  thick  frieze  motor  coat.  He 
nodded  to  us  briefly. 

"Sorry  to  interrupt,"  he  said,  "but  time's 
getting  on,  Tearle.  My  consultation  with  Sir 
Peverly  Salt  was  for  half  past  nine,  if  you 
remember.  It's  that  now." 

"Oh,  there's  plenty  of  time,"  said  Tearle. 
"Sit  down,  Ballard.  It's  nice  and  warm  in 
here." 

"It  may  be  nice  and  warm,"  replied  Mr. 
Ballard  loudly,  "but  I  don't  want  to  keep  Sir 
Peverly  waiting." 

"I  don't  see  why  you  shouldn't  keep  him 
waiting,"  said  Tearle.  "In  fact  I  really  don't 
see  why  you  should  go  to  him  at  all." 

Mr.  Ballard  stared  for  a  moment.  Then 
his  eyes  travelled  round  the  table  and  dwelt 


THE  TERRIBLE  FEAR  147 

first  on  Sarakoff  and  then  on  me.  I  suppose 
something  in  our  manner  rather  baffled  him, 
but  outwardly  he  shewed  no  sign  of  it. 

"I  don't  quite  follow  you,"  he  said,  fixing 
his  gaze  upon  Tearle  again.  "If  you  recollect, 
you  advised  me  strongly  four  days  ago  to 
consult  Sir  Peverly  Salt  about  the  condition  of 
my  heart,  and  you  impressed  upon  me  that  his 
opinion  was  the  best  that  was  obtainable.  You 
rang  him  up  and  an  appointment  was  fixed  for 
this  morning  at  half -past  nine,  and  I  was  told 
to  call  on  you  shortly  after  nine." 

He  paused,  and  once  more  his  eyes  dwelt 
in  turn  upon  each  of  us.  They  returned  to 
Tearle.  "It  is  now  twenty-five  minutes  to 
ten,"  he  said.  His  face  had  become  redder, 
and  his  voice  louder.  "And  I  understood  that 
Sir  Peverly  is  a  very  busy  man." 

"He  certainly  is  busy,"  said  Tearle.  "He's 
far  too  busy.  It  is  very  interesting  to  think 
that  business  is  only  necessary  in  so  far " 

"Look  here,"  said  Mr.  Ballard  violently. 
"I'm  a  man  with  a  short  temper.  I'm  hanged 
if  I'll  stand  this  nonsense.  What  the  devil  do 
you  think  you're  all  doing?  Are  you  playing 
a  joke  on  me?" 


148  THE  BLUE  GERM 

He  glared  round  at  us,  and  then  he  made  a 
sudden  movement  towards  the  table.  In  a 
moment  we  were  all  on  our  feet.  I  felt  an 
acute  terror  seize  me,  and  without  waiting  to 
see  what  happened,  I  flung  open  the  door  that 
led  into  my  consulting  room,  darted  to  the 
further  door,  across  the  hall  and  up  to  my  bed- 
room. 

There  was  a  cry  and  a  rush  of  feet  across 
the  hall.  Mr.  Ballard's  voice  rang  out  storm- 
ily.  A  door  slammed,  and  then  another  door, 
and  then  all  was  silent. 

I  became  aware  of  a  movement  behind  me, 
and  looking  round  sharply,  I  saw  my  house- 
maid Lottie  staring  at  me  in  amazement.  She 
had  been  engaged  in  making  the  bed. 

"Whatever  is  the  matter,  sir?"  she  asked. 

"Hush!"  I  whispered.  "There's  a  danger- 
ous man  downstairs." 

I  turned  the  key  in  the  lock,  listened  for  a 
moment,  and  then  tip-toed  my  way  across  the 
floor  to  a  chair.  My  limbs  were  shaking.  It 
is  difficult  to  describe  the  intensity  of  my  terror. 
There  was  a  cold  sweat  on  my  forehead.  "He 
might  have  killed  me.  Think  of  that!" 

Her  eyes  were  fixed  on  me. 


THE  TERRIBLE  FEAR  149 

"Oh,  sir,  you  do  look  bad,"  she  exclaimed. 
"Whatever  has  happened  to  you?"  She  came 
nearer  and  gazed  into  my  eyes.  "They're  all 
blue,  sir.  It  must  be  that  disease  you've  got." 

A  sudden  irritation  flashed  over  me. 
"Don't  stare  at  me  like  that.  You'll  have  it 
yourself  to-morrow,"  I  shouted.  "The  whole 
of  the  blessed  city  will  have  it."  A  loud  rap  at 
the  door  interrupted  me.  I  jumped  up,  darted 
across  the  room  and  threw  myself  under  the 
bed.  "Don't  let  anyone  in,"  I  whispered. 
The  rap  was  repeated.  Sarakoff's  voice 
sounded  without. 

"Let  me  in.  It's  all  right.  He's  gone. 
The  front  door  is  bolted."  I  crawled  out  and 
unlocked  the  door.  Sarakoff,  looking  rather 
pale,  was  standing  in  the  passage.  He  carried 
a  poker.  "Symington-Tearle's  in  the  coal- 
cellar,"  he  announced.  "He  won't  come  out." 

I  wiped  my  brow  with  a  handkerchief. 

"Good  heavens,  Sarakoff,"  I  exclaimed, 
"this  kind  of  thing  will  lead  to  endless  trouble. 
I  had  no  idea  the  terror  would  be  so  uncon- 
trollable." 

"I'm  glad  you  feel  it  as  I  do,"  said  the 
Russian.  "When  you  threatened  me  with  a 


150  THE  BLUE  GERM 

pair  of  scissors  this  morning  I  felt  mad  with 
fear." 

"It's  awful,"  I  murmured.  "We  can't  be 
too  careful."  We  began  to  descend  the  stairs. 
"Sarakoff,  you  remember  I  told  you  about  that 
dead  sailor?  I  see  now  why  that  expression 
was  on  his  face.  It  was  the  terror  that  he 
felt." 

"Extraordinary!"  he  muttered.  "He 
couldn't  have  known.  It  must  have  been  in- 
stinctive." 

"Instincts  are  like  that,"  I  said.  "I  don't 
suppose  an  animal  knows  anything  about 
death,  or  even  thinks  of  it,  yet  it  behaves  from 
the  very  first  as  if  it  knew.  It's  odd." 

A  door  opened  at  the  far  end  of  the  hall, 
and  Symington-Tearle  emerged.  There  was 
a  patch  of  coal-dust  on  his  forehead.  His  hair, 
usually  so  flat  and  smooth  that  it  seemed  like  a 
brass  mirror,  was  now  disordered. 

"Has  he  gone?"  he  enquired  hoarsely. 

We  nodded.  I  pointed  to  the  chain  on  the 
door. 

"It's  bolted,"  I  said.  "Come  into  the 
study." 

I  led  the  way  into  the  room.     Tearle  walked 


THE  TERRIBLE  FEAR  151 

to  the  window,  then  to  a  chair,  and  finally  took 
up  a  position  before  the  fire. 

"This  is  extraordinary!"  he  exclaimed. 

"What  do  you  make  of  it?"  I  asked. 

"I  can  make  nothing  of  it.  What's  the 
matter  with  me?  I  never  felt  anything  like 
that  terror  that  came  over  me  when  Ballard 
approached  me." 

Sarakoff  took  out  a  large  handkerchief  and 
passed  it  across  his  face.  "It's  only  the  fear 
of  physical  violence,"  he  said.  "That's  the 
only  weak  spot.  Fear  was  formerly  dis- 
tributed over  a  wide  variety  of  possibilities,  but 
now  it's  all  concentrated  in  one  direction." 

"Why  ?"     Tearle  stared  at  me  questioningly. 

"Because  the  germ  is  in  us,"  I  said.  "We're 
immortal." 

"Immortal?" 

Sarakoff  threw  out  his  hands,  and  flung  back 
his  head.  "Immortals!" 

I  crossed  to  my  writing-table,  and  picked  up 
a  heavy  volume. 

"Here  is  the  first  edition  of  Buckwell  Pink's 
System  of  Medicine.  This  book  was  produced 
at  immense  cost  and  labour,  and  it  is  to  be 


152  THE  BLUE  GERM 

published  next  week.  When  that  book  is  pub- 
lished no  one  will  buy  it." 

"Why  not?"  demanded  Tearle.  "I  wrote 
an  article  in  it  myself." 

"So  did  I,"  was  my  reply.  "But  that  won't 
make  any  difference.  No  member  of  the  medi- 
cal profession  will  be  interested  in  it." 

"Not  interested?  I  can't  believe  that.  It 
contains  all  the  recent  work." 

"The  medical  profession  will  not  be  inter- 
ested in  it  for  a  very  simple  reason.  The  medi- 
cal profession  will  have  ceased  to  exist." 

A  look  of  amazement  came  to  Tearle's  face. 
I  tapped  the  volume  and  continued. 

"You  are  wrong  in  thinking  it  contains  all 
the  recent  work.  It  does  not.  The  last  and 
greatest  achievement  of  medical  science  is  not 
recorded  in  these  pages.  It  is  only  recorded  in 
ourselves.  For  that  blue  pigmentation  in  your 
eyes  and  fingers  is  due  to  the  Sarakoff-Harden 
bacillus  which  closes  once  and  for  all  the  chap- 
ter of  medicine." 


CHAPTER  XVI 
THE  VISIT  OF  THE   HOME   SECRETABY 

IN  a  few  hours  the  initial  effects  of  stimula- 
tion had  worn  off.  The  acuity  of  hearing 
was  no  longer  so  pronounced  and  the  sense  of 
refreshment,  although  still  present,  was  not  in- 
tense. We  were  already  becoming  adjusted 
to  the  new  condition.  The  feeling  of  inertia 
and  irresponsibility  became  gradually  replaced 
by  a  general  sense  of  calmness.  To  me,  it 
seemed  as  if  I  had  entered  a  world  of  new  per- 
spectives, a  larger  world  in  which  space  and 
time  were  widened  out  immeasurably.  I  could 
scarcely  recall  the  nature  of  those  impulses  that 
had  once  driven  me  to  and  fro  in  endless  activi- 
ties, and  in  a  constant  state  of  anxiety.  For 
now  I  had  no  anxiety. 

It  is  difficult  to  describe  fully  the  extraor- 
dinary sense  of  freedom  that  came  from  this 
change.  For  anxiety — the  great  modern  emo- 
tion— is  something  that  besets  a  life  on  all  sides 
so  silently  and  so  continuously  that  it  escapes 

153 


154  THE  BLUE  GERM 

direct  detection.  But  it  is  there,  tightening 
the  muscles,  crinkling  the  skin,  quickening  the 
heart  and  shortening  the  breath.  Though  al- 
most imperceptible,  it  lurks  under  the  most 
agreeable  surroundings,  requiring  only  a  word 
or  a  look  to  bring  it  into  the  light.  To  be  free 
from  it — ah,  that  was  an  experience  that  no 
man  could  ever  forget!  It  was  perhaps  the 
nearest  approach  to  that  condition  of  bliss, 
which  many  expect  in  one  of  the  Heavens,  that 
had  ever  been  attained  on  earth.  As  long  as  no 
physical  danger  threatened,  this  bliss-state  sur- 
rounded me.  Its  opposite,  that  condition  of 
violent,  agonizing,  uncontrollable  fear  that  sud- 
denly surged  over  one  on  the  approach  of 
bodily  danger,  was  something  which  passed  as 
swiftly  as  it  came,  and  left  scarcely  a  trace  be- 
hind it.  But  of  that  I  shall  have  more  to  say, 
for  it  produced  the  most  extraordinary  state  of 
affairs  and  more  than  anything  else  threatened 
to  disorganize  life  completely. 

I  fancy  Sarakoff  was  more  awed  by  the  bliss- 
state  than  I  was.  During  the  rest  of  the  day 
he  was  very  quiet  and  sat  gazing  before  him. 
His  boisterousness  had  vanished.  Symington- 
Tearle  had  left  us — a  man  deeply  amazed  and 


VISIT  OF  HOME  SECRETARY         155 

totally  incredulous.  I  noticed  that  Sarakoff 
scarcely  smoked  at  all  during  that  morning. 
As  a  rule  his  pipe  was  never  out.  He  was  in 
the  habit  of  consuming  two  ounces  of  tobacco  a 
day,  which  in  my  opinion  was  suicidal.  He 
certainly  lit  his  pipe  several  times,  mechani- 
cally, but  laid  it  aside  almost  immediately.  At 
lunch — we  had  not  moved  out  of  the  house  yet 
— we  had  very  little  appetite.  As  a  matter  of 
interest  I  will  give  exactly  what  we  ate  and 
dran!:.  Sarakoff  took  some  soup  and  a  piece 
of  bread,  and  then  some  cheese.  I  began  with 
some  cold  beef,  and  finding  it  unattractive, 
pushed  it  away  and  ate  some  biscuits  and  but- 
ter. There  was  claret  on  the  table.  I  wish 
here  to  call  attention  to  a  passing  impression 
that  I  experienced  when  sipping  that  claret. 
I  had  recently  got  in  several  dozen  bottles  of  it 
and  on  that  day  regretted  it  because  it  seemed 
to  me  to  be  extremely  poor  stuff.  It  tasted 
sour  and  harsh. 

We  did  not  talk  much.  It  was  not  because 
my  mind  was  devoid  of  ideas,  but  rather  be- 
cause I  was  feeling  that  I  had  a  prodigious,  in- 
calculable amount  to  think  about.  Perhaps  it 
was  the  freedom  from  anxiety  that  made -think- 


156  THE  BLUE  GERM 

ing  easier,  for  there  is  little  doubt  that  anxiety, 
however  masked,  deflects  and  disturbs  the 
power  of  thought  more  than  anything  else. 
Indeed  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  never  really 
thought  clearly  before.  To  begin  a  conversa- 
tion with  Sarakoff  seemed  utterly  artificial. 
It  would  have  been  a  useless  interruption.  I 
was  entirely  absorbed. 

Sarakoff  was  similarly  absorbed.  When, 
therefore,  the  servant  came  in  to  announce  that 
two  gentlemen  wished  to  see  us,  and  were  in 
the  waiting-room,  we  were  loth  to  move.  I 
got  up  at  length  and  went  across  the  hall.  I 
recollect  that  before  entering  the  waiting-room 
I  was  entirely  without  curiosity.  It  was  a 
matter  of  total  indifference  to  me  that  two 
visitors  were  within.  They  had  no  business  to 
interrupt  me — that  was  my  feeling.  They 
were  intruders  and  should  have  known  better. 

I  entered  the  room.  Standing  by  the  fire 
was  Lord  Alberan.  Beside  him  was  a  tall  thin 
man,  carefully  dressed  and  something  of  a 
dandy,  who  looked  at  me  sharply  as  I  came 
across  the  room.  I  recognized  his  face,  but 
failed  to  recall  his  name. 


VISIT  OF  HOME  SECRETARY        157 

Lord  Alberan,  holding  himself  very  stiffly, 
cleared  his  throat. 

"Good  day,  Dr.  Harden,"  he  said,  with- 
out offering  his  hand.  "I  have  brought  Sir 
Robert  Smith  to  interview  you.  As  you  may 
know  he  is  the  Home  Secretary."  He  cleared 
his  throat  again,  and  his  face  became  rather 
red.  "I  have  reported  to  the  Home  Secretary 
the  information  that  I — er — that  I  acquired 
from  you  and  your  Russian  companion  con- 
cerning this  epidemic  that  has  swept  over  Bir- 
mingham and  is  now  threatening  London." 
He  paused  and  stared  at  me.  His  eyes  bulged. 
"Good  heavens,"  he  exclaimed,  "y°u've  got  it 
yourself." 

Sir  Robert  Smith  took  a  step  towards  me 
and  examined  my  face  attentively. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "there's  no  doubt  you've 
got  it." 

I  indicated  some  chairs  with  a  calm  gesture. 

"Won't  you  sit  down?" 

Lord  Alberan  refused,  but  Sir  Robert 
lowered  himself  gracefully  into  an  arm-chair 
and  crossed  his  legs. 

"Dr.  Harden,"  he  said,  in  smooth  and 
pleasant  tones,  "I  wish  you  to  understand  that 


158  THE  BLUE  GERM 

I  come  here,  at  this  unusual  hour,  solely  in  the 
spirit  of  one  who  desires  to  get  all  the  informa- 
tion possible  concerning  the  malady,  called  the 
Blue  Disease,  which  is  now  sweeping  over  Eng- 
land. I  understand  from  my  friend  Lord 
Alberan,  that  you  know  something  about  it." 

"That  is  true." 

"How  much  do  you  know?" 

"I  know  all  there  is  to  be  known." 

"Ah!"  Sir  Robert  leaned  forward.  Lord 
Alberan  nodded  violently  and  glared  at  me. 
There  was  a  pause.  "What  you  say  is  very 
interesting,"  said  Sir  Robert  at  length,  keeping 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  me.  "You  understand,  of 
course,  that  the  Blue  Disease  is  causing  a  lot 
of  anxiety?" 

"Anxiety?"  I  exclaimed.  "Surely  you  are 
wrong.  It  has  the  opposite  effect.  It  abol- 
ishes anxiety." 

"You  mean ?"  he  queried  politely. 

"I  mean  that  the  germ,  when  once  in  the 
system,  produces  an  atmosphere  of  extraor- 
dinary calm,"  I  returned.  "I  am  aware  of 
that  atmosphere  at  this  moment.  I  have  never 
felt  so  perfectly  tranquil  before." 

He  nodded,  without  moving  his  eyes. 


VISIT  OF  HOME  SECRETARY         159 

"So  I  see.  You  struck  me,  as  you  came 
into  the  room,  as  a  man  who  is  at  peace  with 
himself.'*  Lord  Alberan  snorted,  and  was 
about  to  speak,  but  Sir  Robert  held  up  his 
hand.  "Tell  me,  Dr.  Harden,  did  you  actu- 
ally contaminate  the  water  of  Birmingham?" 

"My  friend  Sarakoff  and  I  introduced  the 
germ  that  we  discovered  into  the  Elan  reser- 
voirs." 

"With  what  object?" 

"To  endow  humanity  with  the  gift  of  im- 
mortality." 

"Ah!"  he  nodded  gently.  "The  gift  of  im- 
mortality." He  mused  for  a  moment,  and 
never  once  did  his  eyes  leave  my  face.  "That 
is  interesting,"  he  continued.  "I  recollect  that 
at  the  International  Congress  at  Moscow,  a 
few  years  ago,  there  was  much  talk  about 
longevity.  Virchow,  I  fancy,  and  Nikola 
Tesla  made  some  suggestive  remarks.  So  you 
think  you  have  discovered  the  secret?" 

"I  am  sure." 

"Of  course  you  use  the  term  immortality  in 
a  relative  sense?  You  mean  that  the — er — 
germ  that  you  discovered  confers  a  long  life  on 
those  it  attacks?" 


160  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"I  mean  what  I  say.  It  confers  immortal- 
ity." 

"Indeed  I"  His  expression  remained  per- 
fectly polite  and  interested,  but  his  eyes  turned 
for  a  brief  moment  in  the  direction  of  Lord 
Alberan.  "So  you  are  now  immortal,  Dr. 
Harden?" 

"Yes." 

"And  will  you,  in  such  circumstances,  go  on 
practising  medicine — indefinitely?" 

"No.  There  will  be  no  medicine  to  prac- 
tise." 

"Ah!"  he  nodded.  "I  see — the  germ  does 
away  with  disease.  Quite  so."  He  leaned 
back  in  the  chair  and  pressed  his  finger  tips 
together.  "I  suppose,"  he  continued,  "that 
you  are  aware  that  what  you  say  is  very  diffi- 
cult to  believe?" 

"Why?" 

"Well,  the  artificial  prolongation  of  life  is,  I 
believe,  a  possibility  that  we  are  all  prepared  to 
accept.  By  special  methods  we  may  live  a  few 
extra  years,  and  everything  goes  to  show  that 
we  are  actually  living  longer  than  our  ances- 
tors. At  least  I  believe  so.  But  for  a  man  of 
your  position,  Dr.  Harden,  to  say  that  the  epi- 


VISIT  OF  HOME  SECRETARY        161 

demic  is  an  epidemic  of  immortality,  is,  in  my 
opinion,  an  extravagant  statement." 

"You  are  entitled  to  any  opinion  you  like,"  I 
replied  tranquilly.  "It  is  possible  to  live  with 
totally  erroneous  opinions.  For  all  I  know 
you  may  think  the  earth  is  square.  It  makes 
no  difference  to  me." 

"What  do  you  mean,  sir?"  exclaimed  Lord 
Alberan.  He  had  become  exceedingly  red 
during  our  conversation  and  the  lower  part  of 
his  face  had  begun  to  swell.  "Be  careful  what 
you  say,"  he  continued  violently.  "You  are 
in  danger  of  being  arrested,  sir.  Either  that, 
or  being  locked  in  an  asylum." 

The  Home  Secretary  raised  a  restraining 
hand. 

"One  moment,  Lord  Alberan,"  he  said,  "I 
have  not  quite  finished.  Dr.  Harden,  will  you 
be  so  good  as  to  ask  your  friend — his  name  is 
Sarakoff,  I  believe — to  come  in  here?" 

I  rose  without  haste  and  fetched  the  Rus- 
sian. He  behaved  in  an  extremely  quiet  man- 
ner, nodded  to  Alberan  and  bowed  to  the  Home 
Secretary. 

Sir  Robert  gave  a  brief  outline  of  the  con- 
versation he  had  had  with  me,  which  Sarakoff 


162  THE  BLUE  GERM 

listened  to  with  an  absolutely  expressionless 
face. 

"I  see  that  you  also  suffer  from  the  epi- 
demic," said  Sir  Robert.  "Are  you,  then,  im- 
mortal?" 

"I  am  an  Immortal,"  said  the  Russian,  in 
deep  tones.  "You  will  be  immortal  to-mor- 
row." 

"I  quite  understand  that  I  will  probably 
catch  the  Blue  Disease,"  said  Sir  Robert, 
suavely.  "At  present  there  are  cases  reported 
all  over  London,  and  we  are  at  a  loss  to  know 
what  to  do." 

"You  can  do  nothing,"  I  said. 

"We  had  thought  of  forming  isolation 
camps."  He  stared  at  us  thoughtfully. 
There  was  a  slightly  puzzled  look  in  his  face. 
It  was  the  first  time  I  had  noticed  it.  It  must 
have  been  due  to  Sarakoff's  profound  calm. 
"How  did  you  gentlemen  find  the  germ?"  he 
asked  suddenly. 

Sarakoff  reflected. 

"It  would  take  perhaps  a  week  to  explain." 

Sir  Robert  smiled  slightly. 

"I'm  afraid  I  am  too  busy,"  he  murmured. 


VISIT  OF  HOME  SECRETARY        163 

"You  are  wasting  your  time,"  muttered 
Alberan  in  his  ear.  "Arrest  them." 

The  Home  Secretary  took  no  notice. 

"It  is  curious  that  this  epidemic  seems  to  cut 
short  other  diseases,"  he  said  slowly.  "That 
rather  supports  what  you  tell  me." 

His  eyes  rested  searchingly  on  my  face. 

"You  are  foolish  to  refuse  to  believe  us,"  I 
said.  "We  have  told  you  the  truth." 

"It  would  be  very  strange  if  it  were  true." 
He  walked  to  the  window  and  stood  for  a 
moment  looking  on  to  the  street.  Then  he 
turned  with  a  movement  of  resolution.  "I  will 
not  trespass  on  your  time,"  he  said.  "Lord 
Alberan,  we  need  not  stay.  I  am  satisfied  with 
what  these  gentlemen  have  said."  He  bowed 
to  us  and  went  to  the  door.  Lord  Alberan, 
very  fierce  and  upright,  followed  him.  The 
Home  Secretary  paused  and  looked  back. 
The  puzzled  look  had  returned  to  his  face. 

"The  matter  is  to  be  discussed  in  the  House 
to-night,"  he  said.  "I  think  that  it  will  be  as 
well  for  you  if  I  say  nothing  of  what  you  have 
told  me.  People  might  be  angry."  We  gazed 
at  him  unmoved.  He  took  a  sudden  step 
towards  us  and  held  out  his  hands.  "Come 


164  THE  BLUE  GERM 

now,  gentlemen,  tell  me  the  truth.  You 
invented  that  story,  didn't  you?"  Neither  of 
us  spoke.  He  looked  appealingly  at  me,  and 
with  a  laugh  left  the  room.  He  turned,  how- 
ever, in  a  moment,  and  stood  looking  at  me. 
"There  is  a  meeting  at  the  Queen's  Hall  to- 
night," he  said  slowly.  "It  is  a  medical  confer- 
ence on  the  Blue  Disease.  No  doubt  you 
know  of  it.  I  am  going  to  ask  you  a  ques- 
tion." He  paused  and  smiled  at  Sarakoff. 
"Will  you  gentlemen  make  a  statement  be- 
fore those  doctors  to-night?" 

"We  intended  to  do  so,"  said  Sarakoff . 

"I  am  delighted  to  hear  it,"  said  the  Home 
Secretary.  "It  is  a  great  relief  to  me.  They 
will  know  how  best  to  deal  with  you.  Good 
day." 

He  left  the  room. 

I  heard  the  front  door  close  and  then  brisk 
footsteps  passing  the  window  on  the  pavement 
outside. 

"There's  no  doubt  that  they're  both  a  little 
mad."  Sir  Robert's  voice  sounded  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  died  away. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
CLUTTERBUCK'S  ODD  BEHAVIOUR 

QCARCELY  had  the  Home  Secretary  de- 
^  parted  when  my  maid  announced  that  a 
patient  was  waiting  to  see  me  in  my  study. 

I  left  Sarakoff  sitting  tranquilly  in  the  wait- 
ing-room and  entered  the  study.  A  grave, 
precise,  clean-shaven  man  was  standing  by  the 
window.  He  turned  as  I  entered.  It  was 
Mr.  Clutterbuck. 

"So  you  are  Dr.  Harden!"  he  exclaimed. 

He  stopped  and  looked  confused. 

"Yes,"  I  said;  "please  sit  down,  Mr.  Clutter- 
buck." 

He  did  so,  twisting  his  hat  awkwardly  and 
gazing  at  the  floor. 

"I  owe  you  an  apology,"  he  said  at  length. 
"I  came  to  consult  you,  little  expecting  to  find 
that  it  was  you  after  all — that  you  were  Dr. 
Harden.  I  must  apologize  for  my  rudeness  to 

165 


166  THE  BLUE  GERM 

you  in  the  tea-shop,  but  what  you  said  was  so 
extraordinary  .  .  .  you  could  not  expect  me 
to  believe." 

He  glanced  at  me,  and  then  looked  away. 
There  was  a  dull  flush  on  his  face. 

"Please  do  not  apologize.  What  did  you 
wish  to  consult  me  about?" 

"About  my  wife." 

"Is  she  worse?" 

"No."  He  dropped  his  hat,  recovered  it, 
and  finally  set  it  upon  a  corner  of  the  table. 
"No,  she  is  not  worse.  In  fact,  she  is  the  re- 
verse. She  is  better." 

I  waited,  feeling  only  a  mild  interest  in  the 
cause  of  his  agitation. 

"She  has  got  the  Blue  Disease,"  he  con- 
tinued, speaking  with  difficulty.  "She  got  it 
yesterday  and  since  then  she  has  been  much  bet- 
ter. Her  cough  has  ceased.  She — er — she  is 
wonderfully  better."  He  began  to  drum  with 
his  fingers  on  his  knee,  and  looked  with  a 
vacant  gaze  at  the  corner  of  the  room.  "Yes, 
she  is  certainly  better.  I  was  wondering 
if- 

There  was  a  silence. 

"Yes?" 


CLUTTERBUCK'S  BEHAVIOUR        167 

He  started  and  looked  at  me. 

"Why,  you've  got  it,  too!"  he  exclaimed. 
"How  extraordinary!  I  hadn't  noticed  it." 
He  got  to  his  feet  and  went  to  the  window. 
"I  suppose  I  shall  get  it  next,"  he  muttered. 

"Certainly,  you'll  get  it." 

He  nodded,  and  continued  to  stare  out  of  the 
window.  At  length  he  spoke. 

"My  wife  is  a  woman  who  has  suffered  a 
great  deal,  Dr.  Harden.  I  have  never  had 
enough  money  to  send  her  to  health  resorts,  and 
she  has  always  refused  to  avail  herself  of  any 
institutional  help.  For  the  last  year  she  has 
been  confined  to  a  room  on  the  top  floor  of  our 
house — a  nice,  pleasant  room — and  it  has  been 
an  understood  thing  between  Dr.  Sykes  and 
myself  that  her  malady  was  to  be  given  a  con- 
venient name.  In  fact,  we  had  called  it  a 
weak  heart.  You  understand,  of  course." 

"Perfectly." 

"I  have  always  been  led  to  expect  that  the 
end  was  inevitable,"  he  continued,  speaking 
with  sudden  rapidity.  "Under  such  circum- 
stances I  made  certain  plans.  I  am  a  careful 
man,  Dr.  Harden,  and  I  look  ahead  and  lay  my 
plans."  He  stopped  abruptly  and  turned  to 


168  THE  BLUE  GERM 

face  me.  "Is  there  any  truth  in  what  you  told 
me  the  other  day  ?" 

I  nodded.  A  curiously  haggard  expression 
came  over  him.  He  stepped  swiftly  towards 
me  and  caught  my  arm. 

"Does  the  germ  cure  disease?" 

"Of  course.  Your  wife  is  now  immortal. 
You  need  not  be  alarmed,  Mr.  Clutterbuck. 
She  is  immortal.  Before  her  lies  a  future  abso- 
lutely free  from  suffering.  She  will  rapidly 
regain  her  normal  health  and  strength.  Pro- 
vided she  avoids  accidents,  your  wife  will  live 
for  ever." 

"My  wife  will  live  for  ever?"  he  repeated 
hoarsely.  "Then  what  will  happen  to  me?" 

"You,  too,  will  live  for  ever,"  I  said  calmly. 
"Please  do  not  grasp  my  arm  so  violently." 

He  drew  back.  He  was  extremely  pale, 
and  there  were  beads  of  perspiration  on  his 
brow. 

"Are  you  married?"  he  asked. 

"No." 

"Have  you  any  idea  what  all  this  means 
to  me  if  what  you  say  is  true?"  he  exclaimed. 
He  drew  his  hand  across  his  eyes.  "I  am  mad 
to  believe  you  for  an  instant.  But  she  is  better 


CLUTTERBUCK'S  BEHAVIOUR        169 

— there  is  no  denying  that.  Good  God,  if  it  is 
true,  what  a  tragedy  you  have  made  of  human 
lives!" 

He  remained  standing  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  and  I,  not  comprehending,  gazed  at  him. 
Then,  of  a  sudden,  he  picked  up  his  hat,  and 
muttering  something,  dashed  out  and  vanished. 

I  heard  the  front  door  bang.  Perfectly 
calm  and  undisturbed,  I  rejoined  Sarakoff  in 
the  waiting-room.  The  incident  of  Mr.  Clut- 
terbuck  passed  totally  from  my  mind,  and  I 
began  to  reflect  on  certain  problems  arising  out 
of  the  visit  of  the  Home  Secretary. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
IMMORTAL  LOVE 

ON"  the  same  afternoon  Miss  Annot  paid  me 
a  visit.  I  was  still  sitting  in  the  waiting- 
room,  and  Sarakoff  was  with  me.  My  mind 
had  been  deeply  occupied  with  the  question  of 
the  larger  beliefs  that  we  hold.  For  it  had 
come  to  me  with  peculiar  force  that  law  and 
order,  and  officials  like  the  Home  Secretary, 
are  concerned  only  with  the  small  beliefs  of 
humanity,  with  the  burdensome  business  of  ma- 
terial life.  As  long  as  a  man  dressed  properly, 
walked  decently  and  paid  correctly,  he  was  ac- 
cepted, in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  might  firmly 
believe  the  world  was  square.  No  one  wor- 
ried about  those  matters.  We  judge  people 
ultimately  by  how  they  eat  and  drink  and  get 
up  and  sit  down.  What  they  say  is  of  little 
importance  in  the  long  run.  If  we  examine  a 
person  professionally,  we  merely  ask  him  what 
day  it  is,  where  he  is,  what  is  his  name  and 
where  he  was  born.  We  watch  him  to  see  if  he 

170 


IMMORTAL  LOVE  171 

washes,  undresses  and  dresses,  and  eats  prop- 
erly. We  ask  him  to  add  two  and  two,  and  to 
divide  six  by  three,  and  then  we  solemnly  give 
our  verdict  that  he  is  either  sane  or  insane. 

The  enormity  of  this  revelation  engrossed 
me  with  an  almost  painful  activity  of  thought. 

I  gazed  across  at  Sarakoff  and  wondered 
what  appalling  gulf  divided  our  views  on  su- 
preme things.  What  view  did  he  really  take 
of  women?  Did  he  or  did  he  not  think  that  the 
planets  and  stars  were  inhabited?  Did  he  be- 
lieve in  the  evolution  of  the  soul  like  Mr. 
Thornduck? 

A  kind  of  horror  possessed  me  as  I  stared  at 
him  and  reflected  that  these  questions  had 
never  entered  my  consciousness  until  that  mo- 
ment. I  had  lived  with  him  and  dined  with 
him  and  worked  with  him,  and  yet  hitherto  it 
would  have  concerned  me  far  more  if  I  had 
seen  him  tuck  his  napkin  under  his  collar  or 
spit  on  the  carpet.  .  .  .  What  laughable  little 
folk  we  were  I  I,  who  had  always  seen  man  as 
the  last  and  final  expression  of  evolution,  now 
saw  him  as  the  stumbling,  crawling,  incredibly 
stupid,  result  of  a  tentative  experiment — a  first 
step  up  a  ladder  of  infinitive  length. 


172  THE  BLUE  GERM 

Whilst  I  was  immersed  in  the  humiliation  of 
these  thoughts  Miss  Annot  entered.  She  wore 
a  dark  violet  coat  and  skirt  and  a  black  hat.  I 
noticed  that  her  complexion,  usually  somewhat 
muddy,  was  perfectly  clear,  though  of  a  marble 
pallor.  We  greeted  each  other  quietly  and  I 
introduced  Sarakoff. 

"So  you  are  an  Immortal,  Alice,"  I  said, 
smiling.  She  gazed  at  me. 

"Richard,  I  do  not  know  what  I  am,  but  I 
know  one  thing;  I  am  entirely  changed. 
Some  strange  miracle  has  been  wrought  in  me. 
I  came  to  ask  you  what  it  is." 

"You  see  that  both  Professor  Sarakoff  and  I 
have  got  the  germ  in  our  systems  like  you, 
Alice.  Yes,  it  is  a  miracle;  we  are  Immor- 
tals." 

I  studied  her  face  attentively;  she  had 
changed.  It  seemed  to  me  that  she  was  an- 
other woman,  she  moved  in  a  new  way,  her 
speech  was  unhurried,  her  gaze  was  direct  and 
thoughtful.  I  recalled  her  former  appearance 
when  her  manner  had  been  nervous  and  bash- 
ful, her  eyes  downcast,  her  movements  hurried 
and  anxious. 


IMMORTAL  LOVE  173 

"I  do  not  understand,"  she  said.  "Tell  me 
all  you  know." 

I  did  so.  I  suppose  I  must  have  talked  for 
an  hour  on  end.  Throughout  that  time  neither 
she  nor  Sarakoff  stirred.  When  I  had  finished 
there  was  a  long  silence. 

"It  is  funny  to  think  of  our  last  meeting, 
Richard,"  she  said  at  length.  "Do  you  re- 
member how  my  father  behaved?  He  is  dif- 
ferent now.  He  sits  all  day  in  his  study — he 
eats  very  little.  He  seems  to  be  in  a  dream." 

"And  you?"  I  asked. 

"I  am  in  a  dream,  too.  I  do  not  understand 
it.  All  the  things  I  used  to  busy  myself  with 
seem  unimportant." 

"That  is  how  we  feel,"  said  Sarakoff.  He 
rose  to  his  feet  and  spoke  strongly.  "Harden, 
as  Miss  Annot  says,  everything  has  changed. 
I  never  foresaw  this;  I  do  not  understand  it 
myself." 

He  went  slowly  to  the  mantelpiece  and 
leaned  against  it. 

"When  I  created  this  germ,  I  saw  in  my 
mind  an  ideal  picture  of  life.  I  saw  a  world 
freed  from  a  dire  spectre,  a  world  from  which 
fear  had  been  removed,  the  fear  of  death.  I 


174  THE  BLUE  GERM 

saw  the  great  triumph  of  materialism  and  the 
final  smashing  up  of  all  superstition.  A  man 
would  live  in  a  state  of  absolute  certainty.  He 
would  lay  his  plans  for  pleasure  and  comfort 
and  enjoyment  with  absolute  precision,  know- 
ing— not  hoping — but  certainly  knowing,  that 
they  would  come  about.  I  saw  cities  and  gar- 
dens built  in  triumph  to  cater  for  the  gratifica- 
tion of  every  sense.  I  saw  new  laws  in  opera- 
tion, constructed  by  men  who  knew  that  they 
had  mastered  the  secret  of  life  and  had  nothing 
to  fear.  I  saw  all  those  things  about  which  we 
are  so  timid  and  vague — marriage  and  divorce, 
the  education  of  children,  luxury,  the  working 
classes,  religion  and  so  on — absolutely  settled 
in  black  and  white.  I  saw  what  I  thought  to 
be  the  millennium." 

"And  now?"  asked  Alice. 

"Now  I  see  nothing.  I  am  in  the  dark. 
I  do  not  understand  what  has  happened  to 


me. 
« 


What  we  are  in  for  now,  no  man  can  say," 
I  remarked. 

"It's    the    extraordinary    restfulness    that 
puzzles  me,"  said  Sarakoff.     "Here  I  have 


IMMORTAL  LOVE  175 

been  sitting  for  hours  and  I  feel  no  inclination 
to  do  anything." 

"The  thing  that  is  most  extraordinary  to  me 
is  the  difficulty  I  have  in  realizing  how  I  spent 
my  time  formerly,"  said  Alice.  "Of  course, 
father  is  no  bother  now  and  meals  have  been 
cut  down,  but  that  does  not  account  for  all  of 
it.  It  seems  as  if  I  had  been  living  in  a  kind 
of  nightmare  in  the  past,  from  which  I  have 
suddenly  escaped." 

"What  do  you  feel  most  inclined  to  do?"  I 
asked. 

"Nothing  at  present.  I  sit  and  think.  It 
was  difficult  for  me  to  make  myself  come  here 
to-day."  She  smiled  suddenly.  "Richard,  it 
seems  strange  to  recall  that  we  were  engaged." 

She  spoke  without  any  embarrassment  and  I 
answered  her  with  equal  ease. 

"I  hope  you  don't  think  our  engagement  is 
broken  off,  Alice.  I  think  my  feelings  towards 
you  are  unchanged." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Sarakoff.  "That  is  inter- 
esting. Are  you  sure  of  that,  Harden  ?" 

"Not  altogether,"  I  answered  tranquilly. 
"There  is  a  lot  to  think  out  before  I  can  be 


176  THE  BLUE  GERM 

sure,  but  I  know  that  I  feel  towards  Alice  a 
great  sympathy." 

"Sympathy!"  the  Russian  exclaimed. 
"What  are  we  coming  to?  Good  heavens! 
Is  sympathy  to  be  our  strongest  emotion? 
What  do  you  think,  Miss  Annot." 

"Sympathy  is  exactly  what  I  feel,"  she  re- 
plied. "Richard  and  I  would  be  very  good 
companions.  Isn't  that  more  important  than 
passion?" 

"Is  sympathy  to  be  the  bond  between  the 
sexes,  then,  and  is  all  passion  and  romance  to 
die?"  he  exclaimed  scornfully.  He  seemed  to 
be  struggling  with  himself,  as  if  he  were  trying 
to  throw  off  some  spell  that  held  him.  "Surely 
I  seem  to  recollect  that  yesterday  life  contained 
some  richer  emotions  than  sympathy,"  he  mut- 
tered. "What  has  come  over  us?  Why 
doesn't  my  blood  quicken  when  I  think  of 
Leonora?"  He  burst  into  a  laugh.  "Har- 
den, this  is  comic.  There  is  no  other  word  for 
it.  It  is  simply  comic." 

"It  may  be  comic,  Sarakoff,  but  to  speak 
candidly,  I  prefer  my  state  to-day  to  my  state 
yesterday.  Last  night  seems  to  me  like  a  bad 
dream."  I  got  to  my  feet.  "There  is  one 


IMMORTAL  LOVE  177 

thing  I  must  see  about  as  soon  as  possible,  and 
that  is  getting  rid  of  this  house.  What  an  ab- 
surd place  to  live  in  this  is!  It  is  a  comic 
house,  if  you  like — like  a  tomb." 

The  room  seemed  suddenly  absurd.  It  was 
very  dark,  the  wallpaper  was  of  a  heavy- 
moulded  variety,  sombre  in  hue  and  covered 
with  meaningless  figuring.  The  ceiling  was 
oppressive.  It,  too,  was  moulded  in  some  fan- 
tastic manner.  Several  large  faded  oil-paint- 
ings hung  on  the  wall.  I  do  not  know  why 
they  hung  there,  they  were  hideous  and  mean- 
ingless as  well.  The  whole  place  was  mean- 
ingless. It  was  the  meaninglessness  that 
seemed  to  leap  out  upon  me  wherever  I  turned 
my  eyes.  The  fireplace  astounded  me.  It 
was  a  mass  of  pillars  and  super-structures  and 
carvings,  increasing  in  complexity  from  within 
outwards,  until  it  attained  the  appearance  of 
an  ornate  temple  in  the  centre  of  which  burned 
a  little  coal.  It  was  grotesque.  On  the  top- 
most ledges  of  this  monstrous  absurdity  stood 
two  vases.  They  bulged  like  distended  stom- 
achs, covered  on  their  outsides  with  yellow, 
green  and  black  splotches  of  colour.  I  recol- 
lected that  I  paid  ten  pounds  apiece  for  them. 


178  THE  BLUE  GERM 

Under  what  perverted  impulse  had  I  done 
that?  My  memories  became  incredible.  I 
moved  deliberately  to  the  mantelpiece  and 
seized  the  vases.  I  opened  the  window  and 
hurled  them  out  on  to  the  pavement.  They 
fell  with  a  crash,  and  their  fragments  littered 
the  ground. 

Alice  expressed  no  surprise. 

"It  is  rather  comic,"  said  the  Russian,  "but 
where  are  you  going  to  live?" 

"Alice  and  I  will  go  and  live  by  the  sea. 
We  have  plenty  to  think  about.  I  feel  as  if  I 
could  never  stop  thinking,  as  if  I  had  to  dig 
away  a  mountain  of  thought  with  a  spade. 
Alice,  we  will  go  round  to  the  house  agent 


now." 


When  Alice  and  I  left  the  house  the  remains 
of  the  vases  littered  the  pavement  at  our  feet. 
We  walked  down  Harley  Street.  The  house 
agent  lived  in  Regent  Street.  It  was  now  a 
clear,  crisp  afternoon  with  a  pleasant  tint  of 
sunlight  in  the  air.  A  newspaper  boy  passed, 
calling  something  unintelligible  in  an  excited 
voice.  I  stopped  him  and  bought  a  paper. 

"What  an  inhuman  noise  to  make,"  said 


IMMORTAL  LOVE  179 

Alice.  "It  seems  to  jar  on  every  nerve  in  my 
body.  Do  ask  him  to  stop." 

"You're  making  too  much  noise,"  I  said  to 
the  lad.  "You  must  call  softly.  It  is  an  out- 
rage to  scream  like  that." 

He  stared  up  at  me,  an  impudent  amazed 
face  surmounting  a  tattered  and  dishevelled 
body,  and  spoke. 

"You  two  do  look  a  couple  of  guys,  wiv'  yer 
blue  faices.  If  some  of  them  doctors  round 
'ere  catches  yer,  they'll  pop  yer  into  'ospital." 

He  ran  off,  shrieking  his  unintelligible 
jargon. 

"We  must  get  to  the  sea,"  I  said  firmly. 
"This  clamour  of  London  is  unbearable." 

I  opened  the  paper.  Enormous  headlines 
stared  me  in  the  face. 

"Blue  Disease  sweeping  over  London.  Ten 
thousand  cases  reported  to-day.  Europe 
alarmed.  Question  of  the  isolation  of  Great 
Britain  under  discussion.  Debate  in  the  Com- 
mons to-night.  The  Duke  of  Thud  and  the 
Earl  of  Blunder  victims.  The  Royal  Family 
leave  London." 

We  stood  together  on  the  pavement  and 
gazed  at  these  statements  in  silence.  A  sense 


180  THE  BLUE  GERM 

of  wonder  filled  my  mind.  What  a  confusion! 
What  an  emotional,  feverish,  heated  confusion  1 
Why  could  not  they  take  the  matter  calmly? 
What,  in  the  name  of  goodness,  was  the  reason 
of  this  panic?  They  knew  that  the  Blue  Dis- 
ease had  caused  no  fatalities  in  Birmingham, 
and  yet  so  totally  absent  was  the  power  of 
thought  and  deduction,  that  they  actually 
printed  those  glaring  headlines. 

"The  fools,"  I  said.  "The  amazing,  fatuous 
fools.  They  simply  want  to  sell  the  paper. 
They  have  no  other  idea." 

A  strong  nausea  came  over  me.  I  crumpled 
up  the  paper  and  stood  staring  up  and  down 
the  street.  The  newspaper  boy  was  in  the  far 
distance,  still  shrieking.  I  saw  Sir  Barnaby 
Burtle,  the  obstetrician,  standing  by  his  scarlet 
front  door,  eagerly  devouring  the  news.  His 
jaw  was  slack  and  his  eyes  protruded. 

The  solemn  houses  of  Harley  Street  only 
increased  my  nausea.  The  folly  of  it — the 
selfish,  savage  folly  of  life ! 

"Come,  Richard,"  said  Alice.  "The  sooner 
we  get  to  the  house  agent  the  better.  We 
could  never  live  here." 

"I'll  put  him  on  to  the  job  of  finding  a 


IMMORTAL  LOVE  181 

bungalow  on  the  South  Coast  at  once,"  I  said. 
"And  then  we'll  go  and  live  there." 

"We  must  get  married,"  she  observed. 

"Married!"  I  stopped  and  stared  at  her 
with  a  puzzled  expression.  "Don't  you  think 
the  marriage  ceremony  is  rather  barbarous?" 

She  did  not  reply;  we  walked  on  immersed 
in  our  own  thoughts.  At  times  I  detected  in 
the  passers-by  a  gleam  of  sparrow-egg  blue. 

My  house  agent  was  a  large,  confused  indi- 
vidual who  habitually  wore  a  shining  top  hat 
on  the  back  of  his  head  and  twisted  a  cigar  in 
the  corner  of  his  mouth.  He  was  very  fat, 
with  one  of  those  creased  faces  that  seem  to  fall 
into  folds  like  a  heavy  crimson  curtain.  His 
brooding,  congested  eye  fell  upon  me  as  we  en- 
tered, and  an  expression  of  alarm  became  visi- 
ble in  its  depths.  He  pushed  his  chair  back 
and  retreated  to  a  corner  of  the  room. 

"Dr.  Harden!"  he  exclaimed  fearfully,  "you 
oughtn't  to  come  here  like  that,  you  really 
oughtn't." 

"Don't  be  an  ass,  Franklyn,"  I  said  firmly. 
"You  are  bound  to  catch  the  germ  sooner  or 
later.  It  will  impress  you  immensely." 

"It's    all    over    London,"    he    whimpered. 


182,  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"It's  too  much;  it  will  hit  us  hard.  It's  too 
much." 

"Listen  to  me,"  I  said.  "I  have  come  here 
to  see  you  about  business.  Now  sit  down  in 
your  chair ;  I  won't  touch  you.  I  want  you  to 
get  me  a  bungalow  by  the  sea  with  a  garden 
as  soon  as  possible.  I  am  going  to  sell  my 
house." 

"Sell  your  house!"  He  became  calmer. 
"That  is  very  extraordinary,  Dr.  Harden." 

"I  am  going  out  of  London." 

He  was  astonished. 

"But  your  house — in  Harley  Street — so  cen- 
tral .  .  ."  he  stammered.  "I  don't  under- 
stand. Are  you  giving  up  your  practice?" 

"Of  course." 

"At  your  age,  Dr.  Harden?" 

"What  has  age  got  to  do  with  it?  There  is 
no  such  thing  as  age." 

He  stared.      Then  his  eyes  turned  to  Alice. 

"No  such  thing  as  age?"  he  murmured 
helplessly.  "But  surely  you  are  not  going  to 
sell;  you  have  the  best  house  in  Harley  Street. 
Its  commanding  position  ...  in  the  centre  of 
that  famous  locality  .  .  ." 

"Do  you  think  that  any  really  sane  man 


IMMORTAL  LOVE  183 

would  live  in  the  centre  of  Harley  Street?"  I 
asked  calmly.  "Is  he  likely  to  find  any  peace 
in  that  furnace  of  crude  worldly  ambitions? 
But  all  that  is  already  a  thing  of  the  past.  In 
a  few  weeks,  Franklyn,  Harley  Street  will  be 
deserted." 

"Deserted?"     His  eyes  rolled. 

"Deserted,"  I  said  sternly.  "In  its  upper 
rooms  there  may  remain  a  few  Immortals,  but 
the  streets  will  be  silent.  The  great  business 
of  sickness,  which  occupies  the  attention  of  a 
third  of  the  world  and  furnishes  the  main 
topic  of  conversation  in  every  home,  will  be 
gone.  Sell  my  house,  Franklyn,  and  find  me 
a  bungalow  on  the  South  Coast  facing  the 
sea." 

I  turned  away  and  went  towards  the  door. 
Alice  followed  me.  The  house  agent  sat  in 
helpless  amazement.  He  filled  me  with  a 
sense  of  nausea.  He  seemed  so  gross,  so 
mindless. 

"A  bungalow,"  he  whispered. 

"Yes.  Let  us  have  long,  low,  simple  rooms 
and  a  garden  where  we  may  grow  enough  to 
live  on.  The  age  of  material  complexity  and 
noise  is  at  an  end.  We  need  peace." 


184  THE  BLUE  GERM 

Strolling  along  at  a  slow  pace,  we  went  down 
Oxford  Street  towards  the  Marble  Arch.  It 
was  dusk.  The  newsboys  were  howling  at 
every  corner  and  everyone  had  a  paper.  Lit- 
tle groups  of  people  stood  on  the  pavements 
discussing  the  news.  In  the  roadway  the 
stream  of  traffic  was  incessant.  The  huge 
motor-buses  thundered  and  swayed  along,  with 
their  loads  of  pale  humanity  feverishly  clinging 
to  them.  The  public-houses  were  crowded. 
The  slight  tension  that  the  threat  of  the  Blue 
Disease  produced  in  people  filled  the  bars  with 
men  and  women,  seeking  the  relaxation  of  al- 
cohol. There  was  in  the  air  that  liveliness,  that 
tendency  to  collect  into  small  crowds,  that  is 
evident  whenever  the  common  safety  of  the 
great  herd  is  threatened.  In  the  Park  a  crowd 
surrounded  the  platform  of  an  agitator.  In  a 
voice  like  that  of  a  delirious  man,  he  implored 
the  crowd  to  go  down  on  its  knees  and  repent 
...  the  end  of  the  world  was  at  hand  .  .  .  the 
Blue  Disease  was  the  pouring  out  of  one  of  the 
vials  of  wrath  .  .  .  repent!  .  .  .  repent!  .  .  . 
His  voice  rang  in  our  ears  and  drove  us  away. 
We  crossed  the  damp  grass.  I  stumbled  over 
a  sleeping  man.  There  was  something  famil- 


IMMORTAL  LOVE  185 

iar  in  his  appearance  and  I  stooped  down  and 
turned  him  over.  It  was  Mr.  Herbert  Wain. 
He  seemed  to  be  fast  asleep.  .  .  .  We  walked 
to  King's  Cross,  and  I  put  Alice  without  regret 
in  the  train  for  Cambridge. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE   MEETING  AT  THE  QUEEN*S   HALL 

THE  same  night  a  vast  meeting  of  medical 
men  had  been  summoned  at  the  Queen's 
Hall,  with  the  object  of  discussing  the  nature 
of  the  strange  visitation,  and  the  measures  that 
should  be  adopted.  Doctors  came  from  every 
part  of  the  country.  The  meeting  began  at 
eight  o'clock,  and  Sir  Jeremy  Jones,  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  Royal  College  of  Physicians, 
opened  the  discussion  with  a  paper  in  which  the 
most  obvious  features  of  the  disease  were 
briefly  tabulated. 

The  great  Hall  was  packed.  Sarakoff  and 
I  got  seats  in  the  front  row  of  the  gallery.  Sir 
Jeremy  Jones,  a  large  bland  man,  with  beauti- 
ful silver  grey  hair,  wearing  evening  dress,  and 
pince-nez,  stood  up  on  the  platform  amid  a 
buzz  of  talk.  The  short  outburst  of  clapping 
soon  ceased  and  Sir  Jeremy  began. 

The  beginnings  of  the  disease  were  outlined, 

186 


MEETING  AT  QUEEN'S  HALL        187 

the  symptoms  described,  and  then  the  physician 
laid  down  his  notes,  and  seemed  to  look  directly 
up  at  me. 

"So  far,"  he  said,  in  suave  and  measured 
tones,  "I  have  escaped  the  Blue  Disease,  but 
at  any  moment  I  may  find  myself  a  victim,  and 
the  fact  does  not  disquiet  me.  For  I  am  con- 
vinced that  we  are  witnessing  the  sudden  in- 
trusion and  the  swift  spread  of  an  absolutely 
harmless  organism — one  that  has  been,  per- 
haps, dormant  for  centuries  in  the  soil,  or  has 
evolved  to  its  present  form  in  the  deep  waters 
of  the  Elan  watershed  by  a  process  whose  na- 
ture we  can  only  dimly  guess  at.  Some  have 
suggested  a  meteoric  origin,  and  it  is  true  that 
some  meteoric  stones  fell  over  Wales  recently. 
But  that  is  far-fetched  to  my  mind,  for  how 
could  a  white-hot  stone  harbour  living  matter? 
Whatever  its  origin,  it  is,  I  am  sure,  a  harmless 
thing,  and  though  strange,  and  at  first  sight 
alarming,  we  need  none  of  us  alter  our  views  of 
life  or  our  way  of  living.  The  subject  is  now 
open  for  discussion,  and  I  call  on  Professor 
Sarakoff,  of  Petrograd,  the  eminent  bacteriolo- 
gist, to  give  us  the  benefit  of  his  views,  as  I 
believe  he  has  a  statement  to  make." 


188  THE  BLUE  GERM 

A  burst  of  applause  filled  the  Hall. 

"Good,"  muttered  Sarakoff  in  my  ear.  "I 
will  certainly  give  them  my  views." 

"Be  careful,"  I  said  idly.  Sir  Jeremy  was 
gazing  round  the  Hall.  Sarakoff  stood  up 
and  there  arose  cries  for  silence.  He  made  a 
striking  figure  with  his  giant  stature,  his  black 
hair  and  beard  and  his  blue-stained  eyes.  Sir 
Jeremy  sat  down,  smiling  blandly. 

"Mr.  President  and  Gentlemen,"  began  the 
Professor,  in  a  voice  that  carried  to  every  part 
of  the  Hall.  "I,  as  an  Immortal,  desire  to 
make  a  few  simple  and  decisive  statements  to 
you  to-night  regarding  the  nature  of  the  Blue 
Disease,  the  germ  of  which  was  prepared  by 
myself  and  my  friend,  Dr.  Richard  Harden. 
The  germ — in  future  to  be  known  as  the  Sara- 
koff-Harden  bacillus — is  ultra-microscopical. 
It  grows  in  practically  every  medium  with 
great  ease.  In  the  human  body  it  finds  an  ad- 
mirable host,  and  owing  to  the  fact  that  it  de- 
stroys all  other  organisms,  it  confers  immor- 
tality on  the  person  who  is  infected  by  it.  We 
are  therefore  on  the  threshold  of  a  new  era." 

After  this  brief  statement  Sarakoff  calmly 
sat  down,  and  absolute  silence  reigned.  Sir 


MEETING  AT  QUEEN'S  HALL        189 

Jeremy,  still  smiling  blandly,  stared  up  at  him. 
Every  face  was  turned  in  our  direction.  A 
murmur  began,  which  quickly  increased.  A 
doctor  behind  me  leaned  over  and  touched  my 
shoulder. 

"Is  he  sane?"  he  asked  in  a  whisper. 

"Perfectly,"  I  replied. 

"But  you  don't  believe  him?" 

"Of  course  I  do." 

"But  it's  ridiculous!  Who  is  this  Dr.  Har- 
den?" 

"I  am  Dr.  Harden." 

The  uproar  in  the  Hall  was  now  consider- 
able. Sir  Jeremy  rose,  and  waved  his  hands  in 
gestures  of  restraint.  Finally  he  had  recourse 
to  a  bell  that  stood  on  the  table. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  said,  when  silence  was  re- 
stored. "We  have  just  heard  a  remarkable 
statement  from  Professor  Sarakoff  and  I  think 
I  am  justified  in  asking  for  proofs." 

I  instantly  got  up.     I  was  quite  calm. 

"I  can  prove  that  Sarakoff  s  statement  is 
perfectly  correct,"  I  said.  "I  am  Richard 
Harden.  I  discovered  the  method  whereby  the 
bacillus  became  a  possibility.  Every  man  in 
this  Hall  who  has  the  Sarakoff -Harden  bacil- 


190  THE  BLUE  GERM 

lus  in  his  system  is  immortal.  You,  Mr.  Presi- 
dent, are  not  yet  one  of  the  Immortals.  But 
I  fancy  in  a  day  or  two  you  will  join  us."  I 
paused  and  smiled  easily  at  the  concourse  be- 
low and  around  me.  "It  is  really  bad  luck  on 
the  medical  profession,"  I  continued.  "I'm 
afraid  we'll  all  have  to  find  some  other  occupa- 
tion. Of  course  you've  all  noticed  how  the 
germ  cuts  short  disease." 

I  sat  down  again.  The  smile  on  Sir 
Jeremy's  face  had  weakened  a  little. 

"Turn  them  out!"  shouted  an  angry  voice 
from  the  body  of  the  Hall. 

Sir  Jeremy  held  up  a  protesting  hand,  and 
then  took  off  his  glasses  and  began  to  polish 
them.  A  buzz  of  talk  arose.  Men  turned  to 
one  another  and  began  to  argue.  The  doctor 
behind  me  leaned  forward  again. 

"Is  this  a  joke?"  he  enquired  rather  loudly. 

"No." 

"But  you  two  are  speaking  rubbish.  What 
the  devil  do  you  mean  by  saying  you're  im- 
mortal?" 

I  turned  and  looked  at  him.  My  calmness 
enraged  him.  He  was  a  shaggy,  irritable, 
middle-aged  practitioner. 


MEETING  AT  QUEEN'S  HALL        191 

"You've  got  the  Blue  Disease,  but  you're 
no  more  immortal  than  a  blue  monkey."  He 
looked  fiercely  round  at  his  neighbours. 
"What  do  you  think?" 

A  babel  of  voices  sounded  in  our  ears. 

Sir  Jeremy  Jones  appeared  perplexed. 
Someone  stood  up  in  the  body  of  the  Hall  and 
Sir  Jeremy  caught  his  eye  and  seemed  re- 
lieved. It  was  my  friend  Hammer,  who  had 
tended  me  after  the  accident  that  my  black  cat 
had  brought  about. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Hammer,  when  silence 
had  fallen.  "Although  the  statements  of  Pro- 
fessor Sarakoff  and  Dr.  Harden  appear  fan- 
tastical, I  believe  that  they  may  be  nearer  the 
truth  than  we  suppose."  His  manner,  slow, 
impressive  and  calm,  aroused  general  attention. 
Frowning  slightly,  he  drew  himself  up  and 
clasped  the  lapels  of  his  coat.  "This  after- 
noon," he  continued,  "I  was  at  the  bedside  of  a 
sick  child  who  was  at  the  point  of  death.  This 
child  had  been  visited  yesterday  by  a  relative 
who,  two  hours  after  the  visit,  developed  the 

Blue  Disease.  Now "  He  paused  and 

looked  slowly  about  him.  "Now  the  child  was 
suffering  from  peritonitis,  and  there  was  no 


192  THE  BLUE  GERM 

possible  chance  of  recovery.  Yet  that  child 
did  recover  and  is  now  well." 

The  whole  audience  was  staring  at  him,. 
Hammer  took  a  deep  breath  and  grasped  his 
coat  more  firmly. 

"That  child,  I  repeat,  is  now  well.  The  re- 
covery set  in  under  my  own  eyes.  I  saw  for 
myself  the  return  of  life  to  a  body  that  was 
moribund.  The  return  was  swift.  In  one 
hour  the  transformation  was  complete,  and  it 
was  in  that  hour  that  the  child  developed  the 
outward  signs  of  the  Blue  Disease." 

He  paused.  A  murmur  ran  round  the  hall 
and  then  once  more  came  silence. 

"I  am  of  the  opinion,"  said  Hammer  deliber- 
ately, "that  the  cause  of  the  miracle — for  it  was 
a  miracle — was  the  Blue  Disease.  Think, 
Gentlemen,  of  a  child  in  the  last  stages  of  sep- 
tic peritonitis,  practically  dead.  Think  again 
of  the  same  child,  one  hour  later,  alive,  free 
from  pain,  smiling,  interested — and  stained 
with  the  Blue  Disease.  What  conclusion,  as 
honest  men,  are  we  to  draw  from  that?" 

He  sat  down.  At  once  a  man  near  him  got 
to  his  feet. 

"The  point  of  view  hinted  at  by  the  last 


MEETING  AT  QUEEN'S  HALL        193 

speaker  is  correct,"  he  said.  "I  can  corrobo- 
rate it  to  a  small  extent.  This  morning  I  was 
confined  to  my  bed  with  the  beginnings  of  a 
bad  influenzal  cold.  At  midday  I  developed 
the  Blue  Disease,  and  now  I  am  as  well  as  I 
have  ever  been  in  the  whole  of  my  life.  I  at- 
tribute my  cure  to  the  Blue  Disease." 

Scarcely  had  he  taken  his  seat  again  when  a 
grave  scholarly  man  arose  in  the  gallery. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "I  come  from  Bir- 
mingham; and  it  is  a  city  of  miracles.  The 
sick  are  being  cured  in  thousands  daily.  The 
hospitals  are  emptying  daily.  I  verily  believe 
that  the  Blue  Disease  may  prove  to  be  all 
that  Dr.  Sarakoff  and  Dr.  Harden  claim  it 
to  be." 

The  effect  of  these  speakers  upon  the  meet- 
ing was  remarkable.  A  thrill  passed  over  the 
crowded  Hall.  Hammer  rose  again. 

"Let  us  accept  for  a  moment  that  this  new 
infection  confers  immortality  on  humanity,"  he 
said,  weighing  each  word  carefully.  "What 
are  we,  as  medical  men,  going  to  do?  Look 
into  the  future — a  future  free  from  disease, 
from  death,  possibly  from  pain.  Are  we  to  ac- 
cept such  a  future  passively,  or  are  we,  as  doc- 


194.  THE  BLUE  GERM 

tors,  to  strive  to  eradicate  this  new  germ  as  we 
strive  to  eradicate  other  germs?" 

Sir  Jeremy  Jones,  with  an  expression  of  dis- 
may, raised  his  hand. 

"Surely,  surely,"  he  exclaimed  shrilly,  "we 
are  going  too  far.  That  the  Blue  Disease  may 
modify  the  course  of  illness  is  conceivable,  and 
seems  to  be  supported  by  evidence.  But  to 
assume  that  it  confers  immortality " 

"Why  should  we  doubt  it?"  returned 
Hammer  warmly.  "We  have  been  told  that 
it  does  by  two  responsible  men  of  science,  and 
so  far  their  claim  is  justified.  You,  Mr.  Chair- 
man, have  not  seen  the  miracle  that  I  have 
seen  this  afternoon.  If  the  germ  can  bring  a 
moribund  child  back  to  life  in  an  hour,  why 
should  it  not  banish  disease  from  the  world?" 

"But  if  it  does  banish  disease  from  the 
world,  that  does  not  mean  it  confers  immor- 
tality," objected  Sir  Jeremy.  "Do  you  mean 
to  say  that  we  are  to  regard  natural  death  as  a 
disease?" 

He  gazed  round  the  hall  helplessly.  Several 
men  arose  to  speak,  but  were  unable  to  obtain 
a  hearing,  for  excitement  now  ran  high  and 
every  man  was  discussing  the  situation  with  his 


MEETING  AT  QUEEN'S  HALL        195 

neighbour.  For  a  moment,  a  strange  dread 
had  gripped  the  meeting,  paralysing  thought, 
but  it  passed,  and  while  some  remained  per- 
plexed the  majority  began  to  resent  vehe- 
mently the  suggestions  of  Hammer.  I  could 
hear  those  immediately  behind  me  insisting 
that  the  view  was  sheer  rubbish.  It  was  pre- 
posterous. It  was  pure  lunacy.  With  these 
phrases,  constantly  repeated,  they  threw  off 
the  startling  effect  of  Hammer's  speech,  and 
fortified  themselves  in  the  conviction  that  the 
Blue  Disease  was  merely  a  new  malady,  similar 
to  other  maladies,  and  that  life  would  proceed 
as  before. 

I  turned  to  them. 

"You  are  deliberately  deceiving  yourselves," 
I  said.  "You  have  heard  the  evidence.  You 
are  simply  making  as  much  noise  as  possible  in 
order  to  shut  out  the  truth." 

My  words  enraged  them.  A  sudden  clam- 
our arose  around  us.  Several  men  shook  their 
fists  and  there  were  angry  cries.  One  of  them 
made  a  movement  towards  us.  In  an  instant 
calmness  left  us.  The  scene  around  us  seemed 
to  leap  up  to  our  senses  as  something  terrible 
and  dangerous.  Sarakoff  and  I  scrambled  to 


196  THE  BLUE  GERM 

our  feet,  pushed  our  way  frantically  through 
the  throng,  reached  the  corridor  and  dashed 
down  it.  Fear  of  indescribable  intensity  had 
flamed  in  our  souls,  and  in  a  moment  we  found 
ourselves  running  violently  down  Regent 
Street. 


CHAPTER  XX 
THE   WAY   BACK 

IT  had  been  a  wet  night.  Pools  of  water 
lay  on  the  glistening  pavements,  but  the 
rain  had  ceased.  We  ran  steadily  until  we 
came  in  sight  of  Piccadilly  Circus,  and  there 
our  fear  left  us  suddenly.  It  was  like  the  cut- 
ting off  of  a  switch.  We  stopped  in  the  street, 
gasping  for  breath. 

"This  is  really  absurd,"  I  observed;  "we 
must  learn  to  control  ourselves." 

"We  can't  control  an  emotion  of  that 
strength,  Harden.  It's  overwhelming.  It's 
all  the  emotion  we  had  before  concentrated  into 
a  single  expression.  No,  it's  going  to  be  a 
nuisance." 

"The  worst  of  it  is  that  we  cannot  foresee  it. 
We  get  no  warning.  It  springs  out  of  the 
unknown  like  a  tiger." 

We  walked  slowly  across  the  Circus.  It  was 
thronged  with  a  night  crowd,  and  seemed  like 

197 


198  THE  BLUE  GERM 

some  strange  octagonal  room,  walled  by  mov- 
ing coloured  lights.  Here  lay  a  scene  that 
remained  eternally  the  same  whatever  the  con- 
ditions of  life — a  scene  that  neither  war,  nor 
pestilence,  nor  famine  could  change.  We 
stood  by  the  fountain,  immersed  in  our 
thoughts.  "I  used  to  enjoy  this  kind  of 
thing,"  said  Sarakoff  at  length. 

"And  now?" 

"Now  it  is  curiously  meaningless — abso- 
lutely indecipherable." 

We  walked  on  and  entered  Coventry  Street. 
Here  Sarakoff  suddenly  pushed  open  a  door 
and  I  followed  him.  We  found  ourselves  in  a 
brilliantly  illuminated  restaurant.  A  band 
was  playing.  We  sat  down  at  an  unoccupied 
table. 

"Harden,  I  wish  to  try  an  experiment.  I 
want  to  see  if,  by  an  effort,  we  can  get  back  to 
the  old  point  of  view." 

He  beckoned  to  the  waiter  and  ordered 
champagne,  cognac,  oysters  and  caviare. 
Then  he  leaned  back  in  his  seat  and  smiled. 

"Somehow  I  feel  it  won't  work,"  I  began. 

He  held  up  his  hand. 

"Wait.     It  is  an  experiment.     You  must 


THE  WAY  BACK  199 

give  it  a  fair  chance.     Come,  let  us  be  merry." 

I  nodded. 

"Let  us  eat,  drink  and  be  merry,"  I  mur- 
mured. 

I  watched  the  flushed  faces  and  sparkling 
eyes  around  us.  So  far  we  had  attracted  no 
attention.  Our  table  was  in  a  corner,  behind 
a  pillar.  The  waiter  hurried  up  with  a  laden 
tray,  and  in  a  moment  the  table  was  covered 
with  bottles  and  plates. 

"Now,"  said  Sarakoff,  "we  will  begin  with  a 
glass  of  brandy.  Let  us  try  to  recall  the  days 
of  our  youth — a  little  imagination,  Harden, 
and  then  perhaps  the  spell  will  be  broken.  A 
toast — Leonora !" 

"Leonora,"  I  echoed. 

We  raised  our  glasses.  I  took  a  sip  and  set 
down  my  glass.  Our  eyes  met. 

"Is  the  brandy  good?" 

"It  is  of  an  admirable  quality,"  said  Sara- 
koff. He  put  his  glass  on  the  table  and  for 
some  time  we  sat  in  silence. 

"Excuse  me,"  I  said.  "Don't  you  think  the 
caviare  is  a  trifle ?" 

He  made  a  gesture  of  determination. 

"Harden,  we  will  try  champagne." 


200  THE  BLUE  GERM 

He  filled  two  glasses. 

"Let  us  drink  off  the  whole  glass,"  he  said. 
"Really,  Harden,  we  must  try." 

I  managed  to  take  two  gulps.  The  stuff 
was  nasty.  It  seemed  like  weak  methylated 
spirits. 

"Continue,"  said  Sarakoff  firmly;  "let  us 
drink  ourselves  into  the  glorious  past,  whither 
the  wizard  of  alcohol  transports  all  men." 

I  took  two  more  gulps.  Sarakoff  did  the 
same.  It  was  something  in  the  nature  of  a 
battle  against  an  invisible  resistance.  I 
gripped  the  table  hard  with  my  free  hand,  and 
took  another  gulp. 

"Sarakoff,"  I  gasped.  "I  can't  take  any 
more.  If  you  want  to  get  alcohol  into  my 
system  you  must  inject  it  under  my  skin.  I 
can't  do  it  this  way." 

He  put  down  his  glass.  It  was  half  full. 
There  were  beads  of  perspiration  on  his  brow. 

"I'll  finish  that  glass  somehow,"  he  observed. 
He  passed  his  hand  across  his  forehead. 
"This  is  extraordinary.  It's  just  like  taking 
poison,  Harden,  and  yet  it  is  an  excellent 
brand  of  wine." 

"Do  get  these  oysters  taken  away,"  I  said. 


THE  WAY  BACK  201 

"They  serve  no  purpose  lying  here.  They 
only  take  up  room." 

"Wait  till  I  finish  my  glass." 

With  infinite  trouble  he  drank  the  rest  of 
the  champagne.  The  effort  tired  him.  He 
sat,  breathing  quickly  and  staring  before  him. 

"That's  a  pretty  woman,"  he  observed.  "I 
did  not  notice  her  before." 

I  followed  the  direction  of  his  gaze.  A 
young  woman,  dressed  in  emerald  green,  sat 
at  a  table  against  the  opposite  wall.  She  was 
talking  very  excitedly,  making  many  gestures 
and  seemed  to  me  a  little  intoxicated. 

Sarakoff  poured  out  some  more  champagne. 

"I  am  getting  back,"  he  muttered.  He 
looked  like  a  man  engaged  in  some  terrific 
struggle  with  himself.  His  breath  was  short 
and  thick,  his  eyes  were  reddened.  Perspira- 
tion covered  his  face  and  hands.  He  finished 
the  second  glass. 

"Yes,  she  is  pretty,"  he  said;  "I  like  that 
white  skin  against  the  brilliant  green.  She's 
got  grace,  too.  Have  you  noticed  white- 
skinned  women  always  are  graceful,  and  have 
little  ears,  Harden?" 


202  THE  BLUE  GERM 

He  laughed  suddenly,  with  his  old  boister- 
ousness  and  clapped  me  on  the  shoulder. 

"This  is  the  way  out!"  he  shouted,  and 
pointed  to  the  silver  tub  that  contained  the 
champagne  bottle. 

His  voice  sounded  loudly  above  the  music. 

"The  way  out!"  he  repeated.  He  got  to 
his  feet.  His  eyes  were  congested.  The 
sweat  streamed  down  his  cheeks.  "Here,"  he 
called  in  his  deep  powerful  voice,  "here,  all  you 
who  are  afraid — here  is  the  way  out."  He 
waved  his  arms.  People  stopped  drinking  and 
talking  to  turn  and  stare  at  him.  "Back  to 
the  animals!"  he  shouted.  "Back  to  the  fur 
and  hair  and  flesh !  I  was  up  on  the  mountain 
top,  but  I've  found  the  way  back.  Here  it  is 
— here  is  the  magic  you  need,  if  you're  tired 
of  the  frozen  heights !" 

He  swayed  as  he  spoke.  Strangely  inter- 
ested, I  stared  up  at  him. 

"He's  delirious,"  called  out  the  emerald 
young  woman.  "He's  got  that  horrid  dis- 
ease." 

The  manager  and  a  couple  of  waiters  came 
up.  "It's  coming,"  shouted  Sarakoff;  "I  saw 
it  sweeping  over  the  world.  See,  the  world  is 


THE  WAY  BACK  203 

white,  like  snow.  They  have  robbed  it  of 
colour."  The  manager  grasped  his  arm 
firmly. 

"Come  with  me,"  he  said.  "You  are  ill.  I 
will  put  you  in  a  taxi." 

"You  don't  understand,"  said  Sarakoff. 
"You  are  in  it  still.  Don't  you  see  I'm  a 
traveller?" 

"He  is  mad,"  whispered  a  waiter  in  my  ear. 

"A  traveller,"  shouted  the  Russian.  "But 
I've  come  back.  Greeting,  brothers.  It  was 
a  rough  journey,  but  now  I  hear  arid  see  you." 

"If  you  do  not  leave  the  establishment  at 
once  I  will  get  a  policeman,"  said  the  manager 
with  a  hiss. 

Sarakoff  threw  out  his  hands. 

"Make  ready!"  he  cried.  "The  great  up- 
rooting!" He  began  to  laugh  unsteadily. 
"The  end  of  disease  and  the  end  of  desire — 
there's  no  difference.  You  never  knew  that, 
brothers.  I've  come  back  to  tell  you — thou- 
sands and  thousands  of  miles — into  the  great 
dimension  of  hell  and  heaven.  It  was  a  mis- 
take and  I'm  going  back.  Look!  She's  fad- 
ing— further  and  further "  He  pointed  a 

shaking  hand  across  the  room  and  suddenly 


204  THE  BLUE  GERM 

collapsed,   half   supported   by   the   manager. 

"Dead  drunk,"  remarked  a  neighbour. 

I  turned. 

"No.  Live  drunk,"  I  said.  "The  cham- 
pagne has  brought  him  back  to  the  world  of 
desire." 

The  speaker,  a  clean-shaven  young  man, 
stared  insolently. 

"You  have  no  business  to  come  into  a  pub- 
lic place  with  that  disease,"  he  said  with  a 
sneer. 

"You  are  right.  I  have  no  business  here. 
My  business  is  to  warn  the  world  that  the  end 
of  desire  is  at  hand."  I  signalled  to  a  waiter 
and  together  we  managed  to  get  Sarakoff  into 
a  taxi-cab. 

As  we  drove  home,  all  that  lay  behind  Sara- 
koff's  broken  confused  words  revealed  itself 
with  increasing  distinctness  to  me. 

Sarakoff  spoke  again. 

"Harden,"  he  muttered  thickly,  "there  was 
a  flaw — in  the  dream " 

"Yes,"  I  said.  "I  was  sure  there  would  be 
a  flaw.  I  hadn't  noticed  it  before — — " 

"We're  cut  off,"  he  whispered.     "Cut  off." 


CHAPTER  XXI 
JASON 

NEXT  morning  the  headlines  of  the  news- 
papers blazed  out  the  news  of  the  meet- 
ing at  the  Queen's  Hall,  and  the  world  read 
the  words  of  Sarakoff. 

Strange  to  say,  most  of  the  papers  seemed 
inclined  to  view  the  situation  seriously. 

"If,"  said  one  in  a  leading  article,  "it  really 
means  that  immortality  is  coming  to  humanity 
— and  there  is,  at  least,  much  evidence  from 
Birmingham  that  supports  the  view  that  the 
germ  cures  all  sickness — then  we  are  indeed 
face  to  face  with  a  strange  problem.  For  how 
will  immortality  affect  us  as  a  community? 
As  a  community,  we  live  together  on  the  tacit 
assumption  that  the  old  will  die  and  the  young 
will  take  their  place.  All  our  laws  and  cus- 
toms are  based  on  this  idea.  We  can  scarcely 
think  of  any  institution  that  is  not  established 
upon  the  certainty  of  death.  What,  then,  if 
death  ceases?  Our  food  supply " 

205 


206  THE  BLUE  GERM 

I  was  interrupted,  while  reading,  by  my 
servant  who  announced  that  a  gentleman 
wished  to  see  me  on  urgent  business.  I  laid 
aside  the  paper  and  waited  for  him  to  enter. 

My  early  visitor  was  a  tall,  heavily-built 
man,  with  strong  eyes.  He  was  carefully 
dressed.  He  looked  at  me  attentively,  nodded, 
and  sat  down. 

"My  name  is  Jason — Edward  Jason.  You 
have  no  doubt  heard  of  me." 

"Certainly,"  I  said.  "You  are  the  proprie- 
tor of  this  paper  that  I  have  just  been  read- 
ing." 

He  nodded. 

"And  of  sixty  other  daily  papers,  Dr.  Har- 
den," he  said  in  a  soft  voice.  "I  control  much 
of  the  opinion  in  the  country,  and  I  intend  to 
control  it  all  before  I  die." 

"A  curious  intention.  But  why  should  you 
die?  You  will  get  the  germ  in  time.  I  cal- 
culate that  in  a  month  at  the  outside  the  whole 
of  London  and  the  best  part  of  the  country 
will  be  infected." 

While  I  spoke  he  stared  hard  at  me.  He 
nodded  again,  glanced  at  his  boots,  pinched  his 
lips,  and  then  stared  again. 


JASON  207 

"A  year  ago  I  made  a  tour  of  all  the  big 
men  in  your  profession,  both  here,  in  America, 
and  on  the  continent,  Dr.  Harden.  I  had  a 
very  definite  reason  for  doing  this.  The  rea- 
son was  that — well,  it  does  not  matter  now.  I 
wanted  a  diagnosis  and  a  forecast  of  the  future. 
I  consulted  forty  medical  men — all  with  big- 
names.  Twenty-one  gave  me  practically 
identical  opinions.  The  remaining  nineteen 
were  in  disagreement.  Of  that  nineteen  six 
gave  me  a  long  life." 

"What  did  the  twenty-one  give  you?" 

"Five  years  at  the  outside." 

I  looked  at  him  critically. 

"Yes,  I  should  have  given  the  same — a  year 
ago." 

He  coloured  a  little,  and  his  gaze  fell;  he 
shifted  himself  in  his  chair.  Then  he  looked 
up  suddenly,  with  a  strong  glow  in  his  eyes. 

"And  now?" 

"Now  I  give  you — immortality."  I  spoke 
quite  calmly,  with  no  intention  of  any  dramatic 
effect. 

The  colour  faded  from  his  cheeks,  and  the 
glow  in  his  eyes  increased. 


208  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"If  I  get  the  Blue  Disease,  do  you  swear 
that  it  will  cure  me?" 

"Of  course  it  will  cure  you." 

He  got  to  his  feet.  He  seemed  to  be  in  the 
grip  of  some  powerful  emotion,  and  I  could  see 
that  he  was  determined  to  control  himself.  He 
walked  down  the  room  and  stood  for  some  time 
near  the  window. 

"A  gipsy  once  told  me  I  would  die  when 
I  was  fifty-two.  Will  you  believe  me  when 
I  say  that  that  prophecy  has  weighed  upon 
me  more  than  any  medical  opinion?"  He 
turned  and  came  up  the  room  and  stood  before 
me.  "Did  you  ever  read  German  psychology 
and  philosophy?" 

"To  a  certain  extent — in  translations." 

"Well,  Dr.  Harden,  I  stepped  out  of  the 
pages  of  some  of  those  books,  I  think.  You've 
heard  of  the  theory  of  the  Will  to  Power? 
The  men  who  based  human  life  on  that  in- 
stinct were  right  1"  He  clenched  his  hands 
and  closed  his  eyes.  "This  last  year  has  been 
hell  to  me.  I've  been  haunted  every  hour 
by  the  thought  of  death — just  so  much  longer 
— so  many  thousand  days — and  then  Noth- 
ing!" He  opened  his  eyes  and  sat  down  be- 


JASON  209 

fore  me.     "Are  you  ambitious,  Dr.  Harden?" 

"I  was — very  ambitious." 

"Do  you  know  what  it  is  to  have  a  dream  of 
power,  luring  you  on  day  and  night?  Do  you 
know  what  it  is  to  see  the  dream  becoming  real- 
ity, bit  by  bit — and  then  to  be  given  a  time  limit, 
when  the  dream  is  only  half  worked  out?" 

"I  have  had  my  dream,"  I  said.  "It  is  now 
realized." 

"The  germ?" 

I  nodded.     He  leaned  forward. 

"Then  you  are  satisfied?" 

"I  have  no  desires  now." 

He  did  not  appear  to  understand. 

"I  don't  believe  yet  in  your  theory  of  immor- 
tality," he  said  slowly.  "But  I  do  believe  that 
the  germ  cures  sickness.  I  have  had  private 
reports  from  Birmingham,  and  to-morrow  I'm 
going  to  publish  them  as  evidence.  You  see, 
Harden,  I've  decided  to  back  you.  To-mor- 
row I'm  going  to  make  Gods  of  you  and  your 
Russian  associate.  I'm  going  to  call  you  the 
greatest  benefactors  the  race  has  known.  I'm 
going  to  lift  you  up  to  the  skies." 

He  looked  at  me  earnestly. 

"Doesn't  that  stir  you?"  he  asked. 


210  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"No,  I  told  you  that  I  have  no  desires." 

He  laughed. 

"You're  dazed.  You  must  have  worked 
incredibly  hard.  Wait  till  you  see  your  name 
surrounded  by  the  phrases  I  will  devise  you. 
I  can  make  men  out  of  nothing."  His  eyes 
shone  into  mine.  "I  once  heard  a  man  say 
that  the  trail  of  the  serpent  lay  across  my  pa- 
pers. That  man  is  in  an  asylum  now.  I  can 
break  men,  too,  you  see.  Now  I  want  to  ask 
you  something." 

I  watched  him  with  ease,  totally  uninflu- 
enced by  his  magnetism — calm  and  aloof  as  a 
man  watching  a  mechanical  doll. 

"Can  you  limit  the  germ?"  he  asked  softly. 

I  shook  my  head. 

"Can  you  take  any  steps  to  stop  it  or  keep 
it — within  control?" 

I  shook  my  head  again.  He  stared  for  a 
minute  at  me. 

"I  believe  you,"  he  said  at  last.  "It's  a  pity. 
Think  what  we  could  have  done — just  a  few  of 
us!"  He  sat  for  some  time  drumming  his 
fingers  on  his  knees  and  frowning  slightly. 
Then  he  stood  up. 

"Never  mind,"  he  exclaimed.     "I'm  con- 


JASON  211 

vinced  it  will  cure  me.  That  is  the  main  thing. 
I'll  have  plenty  of  time  to  realize  my  dream 
now,  Harden,  thanks  to  you.  You  don't  know 
what  that  means — ah,  you  don't  know!" 

"By  the  way,"  I  said,  "I  see  you  are  sug- 
gesting that  food  may  become  a  problem  in 
the  future.  I  think  we'll  be  all  right." 

"Why?" 

"Well,  you  see,  if  there's  no  desire,  there's 
no  appetite." 

"I  don't  understand,"  he  said.  "It  seems 
clear  that  if  disease  is  mastered  by  the  germ, 
then  the  death-rate  will  drop,  arid  there  will  be 
more  mouths  to  fill.  If  everyone  lives  for  their 
threescore  and  ten,  the  food  question  will  be 
serious." 

"Oh,  they'll  live  longer  than  that.  They'll 
live  for  ever,  Mr.  Jason." 

He  laughed  tolerantly. 

"In  any  case  there  will  be  a  food  problem," 
he  said  in  a  quiet  friendly  voice.  "There  will 
be  more  births,  and  more  children — for  none 
will  die — and  more  old  people." 

"There  won't  be  more  births,"  I  said. 

He  swung  round  on  his  heel. 

"Why  not?"  he  asked  sharply. 


212  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"Because  there  will  be  no  desire,  Mr.  Jason. 
You  can't  have  births  without  desires,  don't 
you  see?" 

At  that  moment  Sarakoff  entered  the  room. 
I  introduced  him  to  the  great  newspaper 
proprietor.  Jason  made  some  complimentary 
remarks,  which  Sarakoff  received  with  cool 
gravity. 

I  could  see  that  Jason  was  very  puzzled. 
He  had  seated  himself  again,  and  was  watching 
the  Russian  closely. 

"The  effects  of  last  night  have  vanished," 
said  Sarakoff  to  me.  "My  head  is  clear  again 
and  I  have  no  intention  of  ever  repeating  the 
experiment." 

"You  got  back,  to  some  extent." 

"Yes,  partly.  It  was  tremendously  pain- 
ful. I  felt  like  a  man  in  a  nightmare." 

I  turned  to  Jason  and  explained  what  had 
happened  at  the  restaurant.  He  listened  in- 
tently. 

"You  see,"  I  concluded,  "the  germ  kills 
desire.  Sarakoff  and  I  live  on  a  level  of  con- 
sciousness that  is  undisturbed  by  any  craving. 
We  live  in  a  wonderful  state  of  peace,  which 
is  only  broken  by  the  appearance  of  physical 


JASON  213 

danger — against  which,  of  course,  the  germ  is 
not  proof." 

Jason  was  silent. 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,"  he  said  at  length, 
in  a  very  deliberate  voice,  "that  the  effect  of 
the  germ  is  to  destroy  amhition?" 

"Worldly  ambition,  certainly,"  I  replied. 
"But  I  believe  that,  in  time,  ambitions  of  a 
subtler  nature  will  reveal  themselves  in  us,  as 
Immortals." 

Jason  smiled  very  broadly. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "you  are  wonder- 
ful men.  You  have  discovered  something  that 
benefits  humanity  enormously.  But  take  my 
advice — leave  your  other  theories  alone.  Stick 
to  the  facts — that  your  germ  cures  sickness. 
Drop  the  talk  about  immortality  and  desire. 
It's  too  fantastic,  even  for  me.  In  the  mean- 
time I  shall  spread  abroad  the  news  that  the 
end  of  sickness  is  at  hand,  and  that  humanity 
is  on  the  threshold  of  a  new  era.  For  that  I 
believe  with  all  my  heart." 

"One  moment,"  said  Sarakoff.  "If  you  be- 
lieve that  this  germ  does  away  with  disease, 
what  is  going  to  cause  men  to  die?" 

"Old  age." 


214.  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"But  that  is  a  disease  itself." 

"Wear  and  tear  isn't  a  disease.  That's  what 
kills  most  of  us." 

"Yes,  but  wear  and  tear  comes  from  desire, 
Mr.  Jason,"  I  said.  "And  the  germ  knocks 
that  out.  So  what  is  left,  save  immortality?" 

When  Jason  left  us,  I  could  see  that  he  was 
impressed  by  the  possibility  of  life  being,  at 
least,  greatly  prolonged.  And  this  was  the 
line  he  took  in  his  newspapers  next  day. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE   FIRST   MURDERS 

THE  effect  of  Jason's  newspapers  on  pub- 
lic opinion  was  remarkable.  Humanity 
ever  contains  within  it  the  need  for  mystery, 
and  the  strange  and  incredible,  if  voiced  by 
authority,  stir  it  to  its  depths.  The  facts  about 
the  healing  of  sickness  and  the  cure  of  disease 
in  Birmingham  were  printed  in  heavy  type 
and  read  by  millions.  Nothing  was  said  about 
immortality  save  what  Sarakoff  and  I  had 
stated  at  the  Queen's  Hall  meeting.  But  in- 
stinctively the  multitude  leaped  to  the  con- 
clusion that  if  the  end  of  disease  was  at  hand, 
then  the  end  of  death — at  least,  the  postpone- 
ment of  death — was  to  be  expected. 

Jason,  pale  and  masterful,  visited  us  in  the 
afternoon,  and  told  us  of  the  spread  of  the 
tidings  in  England.  "They've  swallowed  it," 
he  exclaimed;  "it's  stirred  them  as  nothing  else 
has  done  in  the  last  hundred  years.  I  visited 
the  East  End  to-day.  The  streets  are  full  of 

215 


216  THE  BLUE  GERM 

people.  Crowds  everywhere.  It  might  lead 
to  anything." 

"Is  the  infection  spreading  swiftly?" 

"It's  spreading.  But  there  are  plenty  of 
people,  like  myself,  who  haven't  got  it  yet.  I 
should  say  that  a  quarter  of  London  is  blue." 
He  looked  at  me  with  a  sudden  anxiety. 
"You're  sure  I'll  get  it?" 

"Quite  sure.  Everyone  is  bound  to  get  it. 
There's  no  possible  immunity." 

He  sat  heavily  in  the  chair,  staring  at  the 
carpet. 

"Harden,  I  didn't  quite  like  the  look  of  those 
crowds  in  the  East  End.  Anything  big  like 
this  stirs  up  the  people.  It  excites  them  and 
then  the  incalculable  may  happen.  I've  been 
thinking  about  the  effect  upon  the  uneducated 
mind.  I've  spread  over  the  country  the  vision 
of  humanity  free  from  disease,  and  that's 
roused  something  in  them — something  danger- 
ous— that  I  didn't  foresee.  Disease,  Harden, 
whatever  you  doctors  think  of  it,  puts  the  fear 
of  God  into  humanity.  It's  these  sudden  re- 
leases— releases  from  ancient  fears — that  are 
so  dangerous.  Are  you  sure  you  can't  stop 
the  germ,  or  direct  it  along  certain  channels?" 


THE  FIRST  MURDERS  217 

"I  have  already  told  you  that's  impossible." 

"You  might  as  well  try  and  stop  the  light  of 
day,"  said  Sarakoff  from  a  sofa,  where  he  was 
lying  apparently  asleep.  "Let  the  people 
think  what  they  like  now.  Wait  till  they  get 
it  themselves.  There  are  rules  in  the  game, 
Jason,  that  you  have  no  conception  of,  and  that 
I  have  only  realized  since  I  became  immortal. 
Yes — rules  in  the  game,  whether  you  play  it  in 
the  cellar  or  the  attic,  or  in  the  valley,  or  on  the 
mountain  top." 

"Your  friend  is  very  Russian,"  said  Jason 
equably.  "I  have  always  heard  they  are 
dreamers  and  visionaries.  Personally,  I  am  a 
practical  man,  and  as  such  I  foresee  trouble. 
If  the  masses  of  the  people  have  no  illness,  and 
enjoy  perfect  health,  we  shall  be  faced  by  a 
difficult  problem.  They'll  get  out  of  hand. 
Depressed  states  of  health  are  valuable  assets 
in  keeping  the  social  organization  together. 
All  this  demands  careful  thought.  I  am  visit- 
ing the  Prime  Minister  this  evening  and  shall 
give  him  my  views." 

At  that  moment  a  newspaper  boy  passed  the 
window  with  an  afternoon  edition  and  Jason 
went  out  to  get  a  copy.  He  returned  with  a 


218  THE  BLUE  GERM 

smile  of  satisfaction,  carrying  the  paper  open 
before  him. 

"Three  murders  in  London,"  he  announced. 
"One  in  Plaistow,  one  in  East  Ham  and  one  in 
Pimlico.  I  told  you  there  was  unrest  abroad." 
He  laid  the  paper  on  the  table  and  studied  it. 
"In  every  case  it  was  an  aged  person — two  old 
women,  and  one  old  man.  Now  what  does 
that  mean?" 

"A  gang  at  work." 

He  shook  his  head. 

"No.  In  one  case  the  murderer  has  been 
caught.  It  was  a  case  of  patricide — a  hideous 
crime.  Curiously  enough  the  victim  had  the 
Blue  Disease.  The  end  must  have  been 
ghastly,  as  it  states  here  that  the  expression  on 
the  old  man's  face  was  terrible." 

He  sat  beside  the  table,  drumming  his  fingers 
on  it  and  staring  at  the  wall  before  him.  I 
was  not  particularly  interested  in  the  news, 
but  I  was  interested  in  Jason.  Character  had 
formerly  appealed  little  to  me,  but  now  I  found 
an  absorbing  problem  in  it. 

"Harden,  do  you  think  that  son  killed  his 
father  because  he  had  the  Blue  Disease?" 

I  was  struck  by  the  remark.     For  some  rea- 


THE  FIRST  MURDERS  219 

son  the  picture  of  Alice's  father  came  into  my 
mind.  Jason  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"Yes,  that's  it,"  he  exclaimed.  "That's 
what  lay  behind  those  restless  crowds.  I  knew 
there  was  something — a  riddle  to  read,  and  now 
I've  got  the  answer.  The  crowd  doesn't  know 
what's  rousing  them.  But  I  do.  It's  fear  and 
resentment,  Harden.  It's  fear  and  resent- 
ment against  the  old."  He  brought  his  fist 
down  on  the  table.  "The  germ's  going  to  lead 
to  war!  It's  going  to  lead  to  the  worst  war 
humanity  has  ever  experienced — the  war  of  the 
young  against  the  old.  Not  the  ancient  strife 
or  struggle  between  young  and  old,  but  open 
bloodshed,  my  friends.  That's  what  your 
germ  is  going  to  do." 

I  smiled  and  shook  my  head. 

"Wait,"  said  Sarakoff  from  the  sofa;  "wait 
a  little.  Why  are  you  in  such  a  hurry  to  jump 
to  conclusions?" 

"Because  it's  my  business  to  jump  to  conclu- 
sions just  six  hours  before  anyone  else  does," 
said  Jason.  "I  calculate  that  my  mind,  for 
the  last  twenty  years,  has  been  six  hours  ahead 
of  time.  I  live  in  a  state  of  chronic  anticipa- 


220  THE  BLUE  GERM 

tion,  Dr.  Sarakoff.  Just  let  me  use  your 
telephone  for  a  moment." 

He  returned  a  quarter  of  an  hour  later. 
His  expression  was  calm,  but  his  eyes  were 
hard.  "I  was  right,"  he  said.  "Those  two 
old  women  had  the  Blue  Disease,  and  a  girl, 
a  daughter,  is  suspect  in  one  case.  Can't  you 
imagine  the  situation?  Girl  lives  with  her 
aged  mother — can't  get  free — mother  has  what 
money  there  is — not  allowed  to  marry — girl 
unconsciously  counts  on  mother's  death — prob- 
ably got  a  secret  love-affair — is  expecting  the 
moment  of  release — and  then,  along  comes  the 
Blue  Disease  and  one  of  my  newspapers  telling 
her  what  it  means.  The  old  lady  recovers  her 
health — the  future  shuts  down  like  a  rat  trap 
and  what  does  the  poor  girl  do?  Kills  her 
mother — and  probably  goes  mad.  That, 
gentlemen,  is  my  theory  of  the  case." 

He  strode  up  and  down  the  room. 

"You  may  think  I'm  taking  a  low  view,"  he 
cried.  "But  there  are  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  similar  cases  in  England.  God  help  the  old 
if  the  young  forget  their  religion!" 

For  some  reason  I  was  unmoved  by  the  out- 
cry. It  was  no  doubt  owing  to  the  peculiar 


THE  FIRST  MURDERS 

emotionless  state  that  the  germ  induced  in 
people.  Jason  was  roused.  He  paced  to  and 
fro  in  silence,  with  his  brows  contracted.  At 
length  he  stopped  before  me. 

"Do  you  see  any  way  out?" 

"There  will  be  no  war  between  the  young 
and  the  old,"  I  replied.  "In  another  week 
everyone  will  get  the  germ  and  that  will  be 
the  end  of  war  in  every  form." 

He  drew  a  chair  and  sat  down  before  me. 

"You  don't  understand,"  he  said  earnestly. 
"Perhaps  you  had  a  happy  childhood.  I 
didn't.  I  know  how  some  sons  and  daughters 
feel  because  I  suffered  in  that  way.  People 
are  strangely  blind  to  suffering  unless  they 
have  suffered  themselves.  When  I  was  a 
young  man,  my  father  put  me  in  his  office  and 
gave  me  a  clerk's  wages.  He  kept  me  there 
for  six  years  at  eighteen  shillings  a  week. 
Whenever  I  made  a  suggestion  concerning  the 
business  he  was  careful  to  ridicule  it.  When- 
ever I  tried  to  break  away  and  start  on  my  own, 
he  prevented  it.  There  were  a  thousand  other 
things — ways  in  which  he  fettered  me.  My 
only  sister  he  kept  at  home  to  do  the  house- 
work. He  forbade  her  to  marry.  She  and  I 


222  THE  BLUE  GERM 

never  had  enough  money  to  do  anything,  to  go 
anywhere,  or  to  buy  anything.  Now,  to  be 
quite  frank,  I  longed  for  him  to  die  so  that  I 
could  get  free.  To  me  he  was  an  ogre,  a  great 
merciless  tyrant,  a  giant  with  a  club.  Well, 
he  died.  When  he  was  dead  I  felt  what  a  man 
dying  of  thirst  in  the  desert  must  feel  when  he 
suddenly  comes  to  a  spring  of  water.  I  re- 
covered, and  became  what  I  am.  My  sister 
never  recovered.  She  had  been  suppressed  be- 
yond all  the  limits  of  elasticity.  As  far  as  her 
body  is  concerned,  it  is  alive.  Her  soul  is 
dead." 

He  paused  and  looked  at  me  meditatively. 

"If  your  blue  germ  had  come  along  then, 

Harden,  I  might Who  knows?  I  have 

often  wondered  why  our  pulpit  religion  ignores 
the  crimes  of  parents  to  their  children.  I'm 
not  conventionally  religious,  but  I  seem  to  re- 
member that  Christ  indirectly  said  something 
pretty  strong  on  the  subject.  But  the  pulpit 
folk  show  a  wonderful  facility  for  ignoring  the 
awkward  things  Christ  said.  In  about  three 
years'  time  I'm  going  to  turn  my  guns  on  the 
Church.  They've  sneered  at  me  too  much." 


THE  FIRST  MURDERS  223 

"There  will  be  a  new  Church  by  that  time," 
murmured  Sarakoff.  "And  no  guns." 

Jason  eyed  the  prostrate  figure  of  the  Rus- 
sian. 

"I  refer  to  my  newspapers.  That's  going 
to  be  my  final  triumph.  Why  do  you  smile?" 

"Because  you  said  a  moment  ago  that  it  was 
your  business  to  be  six  hours  ahead  of  every- 
one else.  You're  countless  centuries  behind 
Harden  and  me.  We  have  taken  a  leap  into 
the  future.  If  you  want  to  know  what  human- 
ity will  be,  look  at  us  closely.  You'll  get  some 
hints  that  should  be  valuable.  I  admit  that 
our  bodies  are  old-fashioned  in  their  size  and 
shape,  but  not  our  emotions." 

The  telephone  bell  rang  in  the  hall  and  Jason 
jumped  up. 

"I  think  that's  for  me." 

He  went  out.  I  remained  sitting  calmly  in 
my  chair.  An  absolute  serenity  surrounded 
me.  All  that  Jason  did  or  said  was  like  look- 
ing at  an  interesting  play.  I  was  perfectly 
content  to  sit  and  think — think  of  Jason,  of 
what  his  motives  were,  of  the  reason  why  a  man 
is  blind  where  his  desires  are  at  work,  of  the 
new  life,  of  the  new  organizations  that  would 


THE  BLUE  GERM 

be  necessary.  I  was  like  a  glutton  before  a 
table  piled  high  with  delicacies  and  with  plenty 
of  time  to  spare.  Sarakoff  seemed  to  be  in  the 
same  condition  for  he  lay  with  his  eyes  half 
shut,  motionless  and  absorbed. 

Jason  entered  the  room  suddenly.  He  car- 
ried his  hat  and  stick. 

"Two  more  murders  reported  from  Green- 
wich, and  ten  from  Birmingham.  It's  becom- 
ing serious,  Harden!  I'm  off  to  Downing 
Street.  Watch  the  morning  editions!" 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

AT  DOWNING   STREET 

THAT  night,  at  eight  o'clock,  I  was  sum- 
moned to  Downing  Street.  I  left  Sara- 
koff  lying  on  the  sofa,  apparently  asleep.  I 
drove  the  first  part  of  the  way  in  a  taxi,  but  at 
the  corner  of  Orchard  Street  the  cab  very 
nearly  collided  with  another  vehicle,  and  in  a 
moment  I  was  a  helpless  creature  of  fear.  So 
I  walked  the  rest  of  the  way,  much  to  the 
astonishment  of  the  driver,  who  thought  I  was 
a  lunatic.  It  was  a  fine  crisp  evening  and  the 
streets  were  unusually  full.  Late  editions  of 
the  paper  were  still  being  cried,  and  under  the 
lamps  were  groups  of  people,  talking  excitedly. 
From  what  I  could  gather  from  snatches  of 
conversation  that  I  overheard,  it  seemed  that 
many  thought  the  millennium  was  at  hand.  I 
mused  on  this,  wondering  if  beneath  the  busy 
exterior  of  life  there  lurked  in  people's  hearts  a 
secret  imperishable  conviction.  And,  after  all, 

225 


226  THE  BLUE  GERM 

was  it  not  a  millennium — the  final  triumph  of 
science — the  conquest  of  the  irrational  by  the 
rational? 

There  was  a  good  deal  of  drunkenness,  and 
crowds  of  men  and  women,  linked  arm  and 
arm,  went  by,  singing  senseless  songs.  In 
Piccadilly  Circus  the  scene  was  unusually  ani- 
mated. Here,  beyond  doubt,  the  Jason  press 
had  produced  a  powerful  impression.  The 
restaurants  and  bars  blazed  with  light. 
Crowds  streamed  in  and  out  and  a  spirit  of 
hilarious  excitement  pervaded  everyone.  Ir- 
responsibility— that  was  the  universal  attitude ; 
and  I  became  deeply  occupied  in  thinking  how 
the  germ  should  have  brought  about  such  a 
temper  in  the  multitude.  Only  occasionally 
did  I  catch  the  blue  stain  in  the  eves  of  the 

w 

throng  about  me. 

I  reached  Downing  Street  and  was  shown 
straight  into  a  large,  rather  bare  room.  By 
the  fireplace  sat  Jason,  and  beside  him,  on  the 
hearthrug,  stood  the  Premier.  Jason  intro- 
duced me  and  I  was  greeted  with  quiet  court- 
esy. 

"I  intend  to  make  a  statement  in  the  House 
to-night  and  would  like  to  put  a  few  questions 


AT  DOWNING  STREET 

to  you,"  said  the  Premier  in  a  slow,  clear  voice. 
"The  Home  Secretary  has  been  considering 
whether  you  and  Dr.  Sarakoff  should  be  ar- 
rested. I  see  no  use  in  that.  What  you  have 
done  cannot  be  undone." 

"That  is  true." 

"In  matters  like  this,"  he  continued,  "it  is 
always  a  question  of  taking  sides.  Either  we 
must  oppose  you  and  the  germ,  or  we  must 
side  with  you,  and  extol  the  virtues  of  the  new 
discovery.  A  neutral  attitude  would  only 
rouse  irritation.  I  have  therefore  looked  into 
the  evidence  connected  with  the  effects  claimed 
for  the  germ,  and  have  received  reports  on  the 
rate  of  its  spread.  It  would  seem  that  it  is 
of  benefit  to  man,  so  far  as  can  be  judged  at 
present,  and  that  its  course  cannot  be  stayed." 

I  assented,  and  remained  gazing  abstractedly 
at  the  fire. 

He  continued  in  a  sterner  tone — 

"It  may,  however,  be  necessary  to  place  you 
and  Dr.  Sarakoff  under  police  protection. 
There  is  no  saying  what  may  happen.  Your 
action  in  letting  loose  the  germ  in  the  water 
supply  of  Birmingham  was  unfortunate.  You 


228  THE  BLUE  GERM 

have  taken  a  great  liberty  with  humanity, 
whatever  may  result  from  it." 

"Medical  men  have  no  sense  of  proportion," 
murmured  Jason.  "Science  makes  them  so 
helpless." 

"I  see  no  kind  of  helplessness  in  rescuing 
humanity  from  disease,"  I  answered  calmly. 
"Please  tell  me  what  you  want  to  know." 

They  both  looked  at  me  attentively.  The 
Premier  took  out  a  pair  of  pince-nez  and  began 
to  clean  the  lenses,  still  watching  me. 

"France  is  unwilling  to  let  the  germ  into 
her  territory.  Can  measures  be  taken  to  stop 
its  access  to  the  Continent?" 

"No.  It  will  get  there  inevitably.  It  has 
probably  got  there  long  ago.  It  is  air  borne 
and  water  borne  and  probably  sea  borne  as 
well.  The  whole  world  will  be  infected  sooner 
or  later.  There  is  no  immunity  possible." 

The  Premier  put  on  his  pince-nez  and 
warmed  his  hands  at  the  fire. 

"Then  what  will  the  result  of  the  germ  be 
upon  mankind?"  he  asked  at  length. 

"It  will  begin  a  new  era.  What  has  made 
reform  so  difficult  up  to  now?" 

"People  do  not  see  eye  to  eye  on  all  ques- 


AT  DOWNING  STREET  229 

tions,  Dr.  Harden.     That  is  the  main  reason." 

"And  why  do  they  not  see  eye  to  eye?" 

"Because  their  desires  are  not  the  same." 

"Very  good.  Now  imagine  a  humanity 
without  desires,  as  you  and  Jason  understand 
desire.  What  would  be  the  result?" 

"It  is  impossible  to  conceive.  The  wheels 
of  the  world  would  cease  turning.  We  should 
be  like  sheep  without  a  shepherd."  He  sur- 
veyed me  quietly  for  some  time.  "Then  you 
think  the  germ  will  kill  desire?" 

"I  know  it.  I  am  a  living  example.  I  have 
no  desires.  I  am  like  a  man  without  a  body,  I 
am  immortal." 

Jason  laughed. 

"You  are  above  temptation?"  he  asked. 

"Absolutely.  Neither  money,  power  nor 
woman  has  any  influence  on  me.  They  are 
meaningless." 

"You  have,  perhaps,  reached  Nirvana?"  the 
Premier  enquired. 

"Yes.  That  is  why  I  am  immortal.  I  have 
reached  Nirvana." 

"By  a  trick." 

"If  you  like— by  a  trick." 

"Then  I  cannot  think  you  will  stay  there 


230  THE  BLUE  GERM 

for  long,"  said  the  Premier.  "I  shall  look  for- 
ward to  my  attack  of  the  Blue  Disease  with 
interest.  It  will  be  amusing  to  note  one's 
sensations." 

It  was  clear  to  me  that  he  was  defending 
himself  against  my  greater  knowledge,  but  it 
was  a  matter  of  no  importance  to  me.  I  was 
faintly  oppressed  by  the  dreary  immensity  of 
the  room.  I  had  become  sensitive  to  atmos- 
phere, and  the  feeling  of  that  room  was  not 
harmonious. 

The  Premier  stood  in  deep  thought. 

"If  the  germ  prolongs  life,  it  will  lead  to 
complications,"  he  remarked.  "The  question 
of  being  too  old  has  attracted  public  attention 
for  some  time  now,  which  shows  the  way  the 
wind  is  blowing.  Oldness  has  become,  in  a 
small  degree,  a  problem.  The  world  is 
younger  than  it  used  to  be — more  impatient, 
more  anxious  to  live  a  free  life,  to  escape  from 
any  form  of  bondage.  And  so  people  have 
begun  to  ask  what  we  are  to  do  with  our  old 
men." 

He  paused  and  looked  at  Jason. 

"My  friend  Jason  thinks  these  murders  are 
caused  indirectly  by  the  germ." 


AT  DOWNING  STREET  231 

"It  is  possible." 

"It  seems  fantastic.  But  there  may  be 
something  in  it."  The  Premier  raised  his  eyes 
and  studied  the  ceiling.  "There  is  certainly 
some  excitement  abroad.  We  are  dealing  with 
an  unprecedented  situation.  I  therefore  pro- 
pose to  say  to-night  that  if,  in  the  course  of 
time,  we  find  that  life  is  prolonged  and  disease 
done  away  with,  new  laws  will  have  to  be  con- 
sidered." 

"Not  only  new  laws,"  I  said.  "We  shall 
have  to  reconstruct  the  whole  future  of  life. 
But  there  is  no  hurry.  There  is  plenty  of 
time.  There  is  eternity  before  us." 

"What  do  you  eat?"  demanded  the  Premier 
suddenly. 

"A  little  bread  or  biscuit." 

He  clasped  his  hands  behind  his  back  and 
surveyed  me  for  quite  a  minute. 

"I  don't  believe  you're  a  quack,"  he  ob- 
served. "But  when  you  walked  into  the  room, 
I  was  doubtful." 

"Why?" 

"Because  you  wouldn't  look  at  me  squarely." 

"Why  should  I  look  at  you  squarely?  I 
looked  at  you  and  saw  you.  I  have  no  desire 


232  THE  BLUE  GERM 

to  make  any  impression  on  you,  or  to  dominate 
you  in  any  way.  It  was  sufficient  just  to  see 
you.  As  Immortals,  we  do  not  waste  our  time 
looking  at  one  another  squarely.  An  Im- 
mortal cannot  act." 

The  Premier  smiled  to  himself  and  took  out 
his  watch. 

"I  am  obliged  to  you  for  the  instance,"  he 
said.  "Good-night." 

I  rose  and  walked  towards  the  door.  On 
my  way  I  stopped  before  a  vast  dingy  oil- 
painting. 

"Why  do  you  all  deceive  yourselves  that 
you  admire  things  like  that?  Throw  it  away. 
When  you  become  an  Immortal  you  won't  live 
here." 

The  Premier  and  Jason  stood  together  on 
the  hearth-rug.  They  watched  me  intently  as 
I  went  out  and  closed  the  door  behind  me.  A 
servant  met  me  on  the  landing  and  escorted 
me  downstairs.  I  observed  that  he  was  an  Im- 
mortal. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?"  I  asked. 

"I  am  a  spectator,"  he  said  in  a  calm  voice. 
"And  you?" 

"I,  too,  am  a  spectator." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

NIGHT   OF   AN   IMMORTAL 

I  PASSED  a  most  remarkable  night.     On 
reaching  home  I  went  to  bed  as  usual. 
My  mind  was  busy,  but  what  busied  it  was  not 
the  events  of  the  day. 

I  lay  in  the  darkness  in  a  state  of  absolute 
contentment.  My  eyes  were  closed.  My 
body  was  motionless,  and  felt  warm  and  com- 
fortable. I  was  quite  aware  of  the  position 
of  my  limbs  in  space  and  I  could  hear  the  sound 
of  passing  vehicles  outside.  I  was  not  asleep 
and  yet  at  the  same  time  I  was  not  awake.  I 
knew  I  was  not  properly  awake  because,  when 
I  tried  to  move,  there  seemed  to  be  a  resistance 
to  the  impulse,  which  prevented  it  from  reach- 
ing the  muscles.  As  I  have  already  said,  I 
could  feel.  The  sensation  of  my  body  was 
there,  though  probably  diminished,  but  the 
power  of  movement  was  checked,  though  only 
slightly.  And  all  the  time  I  lay  in  that  state, 
my  mind  was  perfectly  lucid  and  continually 

233 


234  THE  BLUE  GERM 

active.  I  thought  about  many  things  and  the 
power  of  thought  was  very  great,  in  that  I 
could  keep  my  attention  fixed  hour  after  hour 
on  the  same  train  of  thought,  go  backwards 
and  forwards  along  it,  change  and  modify  its 
gradations,  just  as  if  I  were  dealing  with  some 
material  and  plastic  formation.  Since  that 
time  I  have  become  acquainted  with  a  doctrine 
that  teaches  that  thoughts  are  in  the  nature  of 
things — that  a  definite  thought  is  a  formation 
in  some  tenuous  medium  of  matter,  just  as  a 
cathedral  is  a  structure  in  gross  matter.  This 
is  certainly  the  kind  of  impression  I  gained  then. 
It  was  now  in  the  light  of  contrast  that  I 
could  reflect  on  the  rusty  and  clumsy  way  in 
which  I  had  previously  done  my  thinking,  and 
I  remembered  with  a  faint  amusement  that 
there  had  been  a  time  when  I  considered  that  I 
had  a  very  clear  and  logical  mind.  Logical! 
What  did  we,  as  mere  mortals  full  of  personal 
desire,  know  of  logic?  The  reflection  seemed 
infinitely  humorous.  My  thoughts  had  about 
them  a  new  quality  of  stability.  They  formed 
themselves  into  clear  images,  which  had  a  re- 
markable permanence.  Their  power  and  in- 
fluence was  greatly  increased.  If,  for  exam- 


NIGHT  OF  AN  IMMORTAL  235 

pie,  I  thought  out  a  bungalow  situated  on  the 
cliff,  I  built  up,  piece  by  piece  in  my  mind,  the 
complete  picture ;  and  once  built  up  it  remained 
there  so  that  I  could  see  it  as  a  whole,  and 
almost,  so  to  speak,  walk  round  it  and  view  it 
from  different  angles.  I  could  lay  aside  this 
thought-creation  just  as  I  might  lay  aside  a 
model  in  clay,  and  later  on  bring  it  back  into 
my  mind,  as  fresh  and  clear  as  ever.  The 
enjoyment  of  thinking  under  such  conditions 
is  impossible  to  describe.  It  was  like  the  joy 
of  a  man,  blind  from  childhood,  suddenly  re- 
ceiving his  sight. 

As  ordinary  mortals,  we  are  all  familiar  with 
the  apparently  real  scenes  that  occur  in  dreams. 
In  our  dreams  we  see  buildings  and  walk 
round  them.  We  see  flights  of  steps  and 
climb  them.  We  apparently  touch  and  taste 
food.  We  meet  friends  and  strangers  and 
converse  with  them.  At  times  we  seem  to  gaze 
over  landscapes  covered  with  woods  and  mead- 
ows. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  the  magic  of  dreams 
had  in  some  way  become  attached  to  thought. 
For  as  Immortals  we  did  not  dream  as  mortals 
do.  In  place  of  dreaming,  we  created  im- 


236  THE  BLUE  GERM 

mense  thought-forms,  working  as  it  were  on  a 
new  plane  of  matter  whose  resources  were  in- 
exhaustible. 

That  night  I  built  my  ideal  bungalow  and 
when  I  had  finished  it  I  constructed  my  ideal 
garden.  And  then  I  made  a  sea  and  a  coast- 
line, and  when  it  was  finished  it  was  so  real  to 
me  that  I  actually  seemed  to  go  into  its  rooms, 
sit  on  the  verandah,  breathe  in  its  sea-airs  and 
listen  to  the  surf  below  its  cliff.  I  remember 
that  one  of  its  rooms  did  not  please  me  entirely, 
and  that  I  seemed  to  pull  it  down — in  thought 
— and  reconstruct  it  according  to  my  wish. 
This  took  time,  for  brick  by  brick  I  thought 
the  new  room  into  existence.  One  law  that 
governed  that  state  was  easy  to  grasp,  for 
whatever  you  did  not  think  out  clearly  assumed 
a  blurred  unsatisfactory  form.  It  became 
clear  to  me  as  early  as  that  first  night  of  im- 
mortality that  the  more  familiar  a  man  was 
with  matter  on  the  earth  and  its  ways  and  pos- 
sibilities, the  more  easily  could  he  make  his 
constructions  on  that  plan  of  thought. 

The  whole  of  that  night  I  lay  in  this  state  of 
creative  joy  and  I  know  that  my  body  remained 
motionless.  It  seemed  that  only  a  film  divided 


NIGHT  OF  AN  IMMORTAL  237 

me  from  the  use  of  my  limbs,  but  that  film  was 
definite.  At  eight  o'clock  on  that  morning,  I 
became  aware  of  a  vague  feeling  of  strain.  It 
was  a  very  slight  sensation,  but  its  effect  was  to 
make  the  thoughts  that  occupied  my  conscious- 
ness to  become  less  definite.  I  had  to  make 
an  effort  to  keep  them  distinct.  The  strain 
slowly  became  greater.  It  had  begun  with  a 
sense  of  distance,  but  it  seemed  to  get  nearer, 
and  I  experienced  a  feeling  that  I  can  only 
compare  to  as  that  which  a  man  has  when  he 
is  losing  his  balance  and  about  to  fall. 

The  strain  ended  suddenly.  I  found  myself 
moving  my  limbs.  I  opened  my  eyes  and 
looked  round.  The  graphic,  visible  quality  of 
my  thoughts  had  now  vanished.  I  was  awake. 

I  have  given  the  above  account  of  the  night 
of  an  Immortal,  because  it  has  seemed  to  me 
right  that  some  record  should  be  left  of  the 
effect  of  the  germ  on  the  mind.  I  would  ex- 
plain the  inherent  power  of  thought  as  being 
due  to  the  freedom  from  the  ordinary  desires 
of  mortals,  which  waste  and  dissipate  the  en- 
ergies of  the  mind  .  .  .  but  of  that  I  cannot  be 
certain. 


CHAPTER  XXV 
OUR  FLIGHT 

I  GOT  out  of  bed  and  began  to  examine  my 
clothes.  They  were  strewn  about  the 
floor  and  on  chairs.  The  colour  of  them 
seemed  peculiar  to  my  senses.  My  frock  coat, 
of  heavy  black  material,  with  curious  braiding 
and  buttons,  fascinated  me.  I  counted  the 
number  of  separate  things  that  made  up  my 
complete  attire.  They  were  twenty-four  in 
number.  I  discovered  that  in  addition  to 
these  articles  of  actual  wearing  material  I  was 
in  the  habit  of  carrying  on  my  person  about 
sixty  other  articles.  For  some  reason  I  found 
these  calculations  very  interesting.  I  had  a 
kind  of  counting  mania  that  morning.  I 
counted  all  the  things  I  used  in  dressing  my- 
self. I  counted  the  number  of  stripes  on  my 
trousers  and  on  my  wall-paper;  I  counted  the 
number  of  rooms  in  my  house,  the  articles  of 
furniture  that  they  contained,  and  the  number 
of  electric  lamps.  I  went  into  the  kitchen  and 

238 


OUR  FLIGHT  239 

counted  everything  I  could  see,  to  the  astonish- 
ment of  my  servants.  I  observed  that  my  cook 
showed  a  faint  blue  stain  in  her  eyes,  but  that 
the  other  servants  showed  no  signs  as  yet  of 
the  Blue  Disease.  I  went  into  my  study  and 
counted  the  books;  I  opened  one  of  them.  It 
was  the  British  Pharmacopeia.  I  began 
mechanically  to  count  the  number  of  drugs  it 
contained.  I  was  still  counting  them  when  the 
breakfast  gong  sounded.  I  went  across  the 
hall  and  counted  on  my  way  the  number  of 
sticks  and  hats  and  coats  that  were  there.  I 
finished  up  by  counting  the  number  of  things 
on  the  breakfast  table.  Then  I  picked  up  the 
newspaper.  There  were,  by  the  way,  one  hun- 
dred and  four  distinct  things  on  my  breakfast 
table. 

The  paper  was  full  of  the  records  of  crime 
and  of  our  names. 

The  account  of  the  Prime  Minister's  state- 
ment in  the  House  was  given  in  full.  Our 
names  were  printed  in  large  letters,  and  appar- 
ently our  qualifications  had  been  looked  up, 
for  they  were  mentioned,  together  with  a  little 
biographical  sketch.  In  a  perfectly  calm  and 
observant  spirit  I  read  the  closely-printed 


240  THE  BLUE  GERM 

column.  My  eye  paused  for  some  time  at  an 
account  of  my  personal  appearance — "a  small, 
insignificant-looking  man,  with  straight  blue- 
black  hair,  like  a  Japanese  doll,  and  an  untidy 
moustache,  speaking  very  deliberately  and  with 
a  manner  of  extreme  self-assurance." 

Extreme  self -assurance !  I  reflected  that 
there  might,  after  all,  be  some  truth  in  what 
the  reporter  said.  On  the  night  that  I  had 
spoken  at  the  Queen's  Hall  meeting  I  had 
been  quite  self-possessed.  I  pursued  the  nar- 
rative and  smiled  slightly  at  a  description  of 
the  Russian — "a  loosely-built,  bearded  giant, 
unkempt  in  appearance,  and  with  huge  square 
hands  and  pale  Mongolian  eyes  which  roll 
like  those  of  a  maniac."  That  was  certainly 
unfair,  unless  the  reporter  had  seen  him  at 
the  restaurant  when  Sarakoff  drank  the  cham- 
pagne. I  was  about  to  continue,  when  a  red 
brick  suddenly  landed  neatly  on  my  breakfast 
table,  and  raised  the  number  of  articles  on  that 
table  to  one  hundred  and  five. 

There  was  a  tinkle  of  falling  glass ;  I  looked 
up  and  saw  that  the  window  was  shattered. 
The  muslin  curtain  in  front  of  it  had  been  torn 
down  by  the  passage  of  the  brick,  and  the 


OUR  FLIGHT 

street  without  was  visible  from  where  I  sat. 
A  considerable  crowd  had  gathered  on  the 
pavement.  They  saw  me  and  a  loud  cry  went 
up.  The  front  door  bell  was  ringing  and  there 
was  a  sound  of  heavy  blows  that  echoed 
through  the  house. 

My  housemaid  came  running  into  the  room. 
She  uttered  a  shriek  as  she  saw  the  faces  be- 
yond the  window  and  ran  out  again.  I  heard 
a  door  at  the  back  of  the  house  slam  suddenly. 

A  couple  of  men,  decently  enough  dressed, 
were  getting  over  the  area  rails  with  the  intent 
of  climbing  in  at  the  window.  I  jumped  up 
and  went  swiftly  upstairs.  So  far  I  was  calm. 
I  entered  Sarakoff ' s  bedroom.  It  was  in  dark- 
ness. The  Russian  was  lying  motionless  on 
the  bed.  I  shook  him  by  the  shoulder.  It 
seemed  impossible  to  rouse  him,  and  yet  in 
outward  appearance  he  seemed  only  lightly 
asleep.  I  redoubled  my  efforts  and  at  length 
he  opened  his  eyes,  and  his  whole  body,  which 
had  felt  under  my  hands  as  limp  and  flaccid  as 
a  pillow,  suddenly  seemed  to  tighten  up  and 
become  resilient. 

"Get  up,"  I  said.  "They're  trying  to  break 
into  the  house.  We  may  be  in  danger.  We 


242  THE  BLUE  GERM 

can  escape  by  the  back  door  through  the 
mews." 

The  blows  on  the  front  door  were  clearly 
audible. 

"I've  been  listening  to  it  for  some  time,"  he 
said.  "But  I  seemed  to  have  lost  the  knack 
of  waking  up  properly." 

"We  have  no  time  to  waste,"  I  said  firmly. 

We  went  quickly  downstairs.  Sarakoff  had 
flung  a  blue  dressing-gown  over  his  pyjamas 
and  thrust  his  feet  into  a  pair  of  slippers.  On 
reaching  the  hall  there  was  a  loud  crack  and  a 
roar  of  voices.  In  an  instant  the  agonizing 
fear  swept  over  us.  We  dashed  to  the  back  of 
the  house,  through  the  servants'  quarters  and 
out  into  the  mews.  Without  pausing  for  an 
instant  we  ran  down  the  cobbled  alley  and 
emerged  upon  Devonshire  Street.  We  turned 
to  the  right,  dashed  across  Portland  Place  and 
reached  Great  Portland  Street.  We  ran 
steadily,  wholly  mastered  by  the  great  fear  of 
physical  injury,  and  oblivious  to  the  people 
around  us.  We  passed  the  Underground 
Station.  Our  flight  down  the  Euston  Road 
was  extraordinary.  Sarakoff  was  in  front,  his 
dressing-gown  flying,  and  his  pink  pyjamas 


OUR  FLIGHT  243 

making  a  vivid  area  of  colour  in  the  drab 
street.  I  followed  a  few  yards  in  the  rear, 
hatless,  with  my  breath  coming  in  gasps. 

It  was  Sarakoff  who  first  saw  the  taxi-cab. 
He  veered  suddenly  into  the  road  and  held  out 
his  arms.  The  cab  slowed  down  and  in  a  mo- 
ment we  were  inside  it. 

"Go  on,"  shouted  Sarakoff.  "Drive  on. 
Don't  stop." 

The  driver  was  a  man  of  spirit  and  needed 
no  further  directions.  The  cab  jerked  for- 
ward and  we  sped  towards  St.  Pancras  Station. 

"Follow  the  tram  lines  up  to  Hampstead," 
I  called  out,  and  he  nodded.  We  lay  gasping 
in  the  back  of  the  cab,  cannoning  helplessly  as 
it  swayed  round  corners.  By  the  time  we  had 
reached  Hampstead  our  fear  had  left  us. 

The  cab  drew  up  on  the  Spaniard's  Walk 
and  we  alighted.  It  was  a  bleak  and  misty 
morning.  The  road  seemed  deserted.  A  thin 
column  of  steam  rose  from  the  radiator  of  the 
taxi,  and  there  was  a  smell, of  over-heated 
oil. 

"Sharp  work  that,"  said  the  driver,  getting 
out  and  beating  his  arms  across  his  chest.  His 


THE  BLUE  GERM 

eyes  moved  over  us  with  frank  curiosity.  Sara- 
koff  shivered  and  drew  his  dressing-gown 
closely  round  him. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 
ON  THE  SPANIARD'S  WALK 

I  PAID  the  man  half-a-sovereign.  There 
was  a  seat  near  by  and  Sarakoff  deposited 
himself  upon  it.  I  joined  him.  On  those 
heights  the  morning  air  struck  chill.  London, 
misty-blue,  lay  before  us.  The  taxi-man  took 
out  his  pipe  and  began  to  fill  it. 

"Lucky  me  comin'  along  like  that,"  he  ob- 
served. "If  it  hadn't  been  because  of  my 
missus  I  wouldn't  have  been  out  so  early."  He 
blew  a  puff  of  smoke  and  continued:  "This 
Blue  Disease  seems  to  confuse  folk.  My 
missus  was  took  with  it  last  night."  He 
paused  to  examine  us  at  his  leisure.  "When 
did  you  get  it?" 

"We  became  immortal  the  day  before  yes- 
terday," said  Sarakoff. 

The  taxi-man  took  his  pipe  out  of  his  mouth 
and  stared. 

"You  ain't  them  two  doctors  what's  in  the 

245 


246  THE  BLUE  GERM 

paper  this  morning,  by  any  chance?"  he  asked. 
"Them  as  is  supposed  to  'ave  invented  this 
Blue  Disease?" 

We  nodded.  He  emitted  a  low  whistle  and 
gazed  thoughtfully  at  us.  At  length  he  spoke. 
I  noticed  his  tone  had  changed. 

"As  I  was  saying,  my  missus  was  took  with 
it  in  the  night.  I  had  a  job  waking  'er  up,  and 
when  she  opened  her  eyes  I  near  had  a  fit. 
We'd  had  a  bit  of  a  tiff  overnight,  but  she  got 
up  as  quiet  as  a  lamb  and  never  said  a  word 
agin  me,  which  surprised  me.  When  I  'ad 
dressed  myself  I  went  into  the  kitchen  to  get  a 
bit  o'  breakfast,  and  she  was  setting  in  a  chair 
starin'  at  nothing.  The  kettle  wasn't  boiling, 
and  there  wasn't  nothing  ready,  so  I  asked  'er 
quite  polite,  what  she  was  doing.  'I'm  think- 
ing,' she  says,  and  continues  sitting  in  the  chair. 
After  a  bit  of  reasoning  with  her,  I  lost  my 
temper  and  picked  up  a  leg  of  a  chair,  what  we 
had  broke  the  evening  previous  when  we  was 
'aving  a  argument.  She  jump  up  and  bolted 
out  of  the  house,  just  as  she  was,  with  her  'air 
in  curl-papers,  and  that's  the  last  I  saw  of  her. 
I  waited  an  hour  and  then  took  the  old  cab  out 
of  the  garage,  and  I  was  going  to  look  for  my 


ON  THE  SPANIARD'S  WALK 

breakfast  when  I  met  you  two  gents."  He 
took  his  pipe  out  of  his  mouth  and  wiped  his 
lips.  "Now  I  put  it  all  down  to  this  'ere  Blue 
Disease.  It's  sent  my  missus  off  'er  head." 

"There's  no  reason  why  you  should  think 
your  wife  mad  simply  because  she  ran  away 
when  you  tried  to  strike  her,"  I  said.  "It's 
surely  a  proof  of  her  sanity." 

He  shook  his  head. 

"That  ain't  correct,"  he  said,  with  conviction. 
"She  always  liked  a  scrap.  She's  a  powerful 
young  woman,  and  her  language  is  extraor- 
dinary fine  when  she's  roused,  and  she  knows 
it.  I  can't  understand  it." 

He  looked  up  suddenly. 

"So  it  was  you  two  who  made  this  disease, 
was  it?" 

"Yes." 

"Fancy  that!"  he  said.  "Fancy  a  couple  of 
doctors  inventing  a  disease.  It  does  sound  a 
shame,  don't  it?" 

"Wait  till  you  get  it,"  said  Sarakoff. 

"It  seems  to  me  you've  been  and  done 
something  nasty,"  he  went  on.  "Ain't  there 
enough  diseases  without  you  two  going  and 
makin'  a  new  one  ?  It's  a  fair  sickener  to  think 


248  THE  BLUE  GERM 

of  all  the  diseases  there  are — measles  and 
softenin'  of  the  brain,  and  'caving  stummicks 
and  what  not.  What  made  you  do  it  ?  That's 
what  I  want  to  know."  He  was  getting  angry. 
He  pointed  the  stem  of  his  pipe  at  us  accus- 
ingly. His  small  eyes  shone.  "It's  fair  sick- 
ening," he  muttered.  "I've  never  took  to  doc- 
tors, nor  parsons — never  in  my  life." 

He  spat  expressively. 

"And  my  wife,  too,  clean  barmy,"  he  con- 
tinued. "Who  'ave  I  got  to  thank  for  that? 
You  two  gents.  Doctors,  you  call  yourselves. 
I  arsk  you,  what  is  doctors?  They  never  does 
me  any  good.  I  never  seed  anyone  they'd 
done  any  good.  And  yet  they  keeps  on  and 
no  one  says  nothing.  It's  fair  sickening." 

There  was  a  sound  of  footsteps  behind  me. 
I  turned  and  saw  a  policeman  climbing  slowly 
up  the  bank  towards  the  road.  Like  all  police- 
men he  appeared  not  to  notice  us  until  he  was 
abreast  of  our  seat.  Then  he  stopped  and  eyed 
each  of  us  in  turn.  His  boots  were  muddy. 

"These  gents,"  said  the  taxi-man,  "  'ave  been 
and  done  something  nasty." 

The  phrase  seemed  attractive  to  him  and  he 
repeated  it.  The  policeman,  a  tall  muscular 


ON  THE  SPANIARD'S  WALK         249 

man,  surveyed  us  in  silence.  Sarakoff,  his 
hair  and  beard  dishevelled,  was  leaning  back 
in  a  corner  of  the  seat,  with  his  legs  crossed. 
His  dressing-gown  was  tucked  closely  round 
him,  and  below  it,  his  pink  pyjamas  fluttered 
in  the  thin  breeze.  His  expression  was  calm. 

The  taxi-man  continued — 

"I  picked  these  gents  up  in  the  Euston 
Road.  They  was  in  a  hurry.  I  thought 
they'd  done  something  ordinary,  same  as  what 
you  or  me  might  do,  but  it  seems  I  was  wrong. 
They've  been  and  done  something  nasty. 
They've  gone  and  invented  this  'ere  Blue  Dis- 
ease." 

The  policeman  raised  his  helmet  a  little  and 
the  taxi-man  uttered  an  exclamation. 

"Why,  you've  got  it  yourself,"  he  said,  and 
stared.  The  policeman's  eyes  were  stained  a 
vivid  blue. 

"An  immortal  policeman !"  murmured  Sara- 
koff dreamily. 

The  discovery  seemed  to  discomfit  the  taxi- 
man.  The  tide  of  indignation  in  him  was  de- 
flected, and  he  shifted  his  feet.  The  police- 
man, with  a  deliberation  that  was  magnificent 
advanced  to  the  seat  and  sat  down  beside  me. 


250  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"Good-morning,"  I  said. 

"Good-morning,"  he  replied  in  a  deep  calm 
voice.  He  removed  his  helmet  from  his  head 
and  allowed  the  wind  to  stir  his  hair.  The 
taxi-man  moved  a  step  nearer  us. 

"You  ought  to  arrest  them,'*  he  said. 
"Here's  my  wife  got  it,  and  you,  and  who's  to 
say  when  it  will  end?  They're  doctors,  too. 
I  allus  had  my  own  suspicions  of  doctors,  and 
'ere  they  are,  just  as  I  supposed,  inventing 
diseases  to  keep  themselves  going.  That's 
what  you  ought  to  do  ...  arrest  them.  I'll 
drive  you  all  down  to  the  police-station."  The 
policeman  replaced  his  helmet,  crossed  his  long 
blue  legs,  and  leaned  back  in  the  corner  of 
the  seat.  Side  by  side  on  the  seat  Sarakoff, 
the  policeman,  and  I  gazed  tranquilly  at  the 
figure  of  the  taxi-man,  at  the  taxi-cab,  and  at 
the  misty  panorama  of  London  that  lay  beyond 
the  Vale  of  Health.  The  expression  of  anger 
returned  to  the  taxi-man's  face. 

"And  'ere  am  I,  standing  and  telling  you 
to  do  your  duty,  and  all  the  time  I  haven't  had 
my  breakfast,"  he  said  bitterly.  "If  you  was 
to  cop  them  two  gents,  your  name  would  be  in 
all  the  evenin'  papers."  He  paused,  and 


ON  THE  SPANIARD'S  WALK          251 

frowned,  conscious  that  he  was  making  little 
impression  on  the  upholder  of  law  and  order. 
"Why  'aven't  I  'ad  my  breakfast?  All  be- 
cause of  these  two  blokes.  I  tell  you,  you 
ought  to  cop  them." 

"When  I  was  a  boy,"  said  the  policeman,  "I 
used  to  collect  stamps." 

"Did  yer?"  exclaimed  the  taxi-man  sarcasti- 
cally. "You  do  interest  me,  reely  you  do." 

"Yes,  I  used  to  collect  stamps."  The  po- 
liceman settled  himself  more  comfortably. 
"And  afore  that  I  was  in  the  'abit  of  collecting 
bits  o'  string." 

"You  surprise  me,"  said  the  taxi-man. 
"And  what  did  you  collect  afore  you  collected 
bits  of  string?" 

"So  far  as  I  recollect,  I  didn't  collect  noth- 
ing. I  was  trying  to  remember  while  I  was 
walking  across  the  Heath."  He  turned  to  us. 
"Did  you  collect  anything?" 

"Yes,"  I  said.     "I  used  to  collect  beetles." 

"Beetles?"  The  policeman  nodded  thought- 
fully. "I  never  had  an  eye  for  beetles.  But, 
as  I  said,  I  collected  stamps.  I  remember  I 
would  walk  for  miles  to  get  a  new  stamp,  and 
of  an  evening  I  would  sit  and  count  the  stamps 


252  THE  BLUE  GERM 

in  my  album  over  and  over  again  till  my  head 
was  fair  giddy."  He  paused  and  stroked  his 
clean-shaven  chin  thoughtfully.  "I  recollect 
as  if  it  was  yesterday  how  giddy  my  head  used 
to  get." 

The  taxi-man  seemed  about  to  say  some- 
thing, but  he  changed  his  mind. 

"Why  did  you  collect  beetles?"  the  police- 
man asked  me. 

"I  was  interested  in  them." 

"But  that  ain't  a  suitable  answer,"  he  re- 
plied. "It  ain't  suitable.  That's  what  I've 
been  seeing  for  the  first  time  this  morning. 
The  point  is — why  was  you  interested  in 
beetles,  and  why  was  I  interested  in  bits  o' 
string  and  stamps?" 

"Yes,  he's  quite  right,"  said  Sarakoff ;  "that 
certainly  is  the  point." 

"To  say  that  we  are  interested  in  a  thing  is 
no  suitable  explanation,"  continued  the  police- 
man. "After  I'd  done  collecting  stamps 

"Why  don't  you  arrest  these  two  blokes?" 
shouted  the  taxi-man  suddenly.  "Why  can't 
you  do  yer  duty,  you  blue  fathead?" 

"I'm  coming  to  that,"  said  the  policeman 
imperturbably.  "As  I  was  saying,  after  I 


ON  THE  SPANIARD'S  WALK         253 

collected  stamps,  I  collected  knives — any  sort 
of  old  rusty  knife — and  then  I  joined  the  force 
and  began  to  collect  men.  I  collected  all  sorts 
o'  men — tall  and  short,  fat  and  thin.  Now 
why  did  I  do  that?" 

"It  seems  to  me,"  observed  the  taxi-man, 
suddenly  calm,  "that  somebody  will  be  collect- 
ing you  soon,  and  there  won't  be  no  need  to 
arsk  the  reason  why." 

"That's  where  you  and  me  don't  agree," 
said  the  policeman.  "I  came  to  the  conclusion 
this  morning  that  we  don't  ask  the  reason  why 
enough — not  by  'alf.  Now  if  somebody  did 
as  you  say,  and  started  collectin'  policemen, 
what  would  be  the  reason?" 

"Reason?"  shouted  the  taxi-man.  "Don't 
arsk  me  for  a  reason." 

He  turned  to  his  taxi-cab  and  jerked  the 
starting  handle  violently.  The  clatter  of  the 
engine  arose.  He  climbed  into  his  seat,  and 
pulled  at  his  gears  savagely.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments he  had  turned  his  cab,  after  wrenching 
in  fury  at  the  steering-wheel,  and  was  jolting 
down  the  road  in  the  morning  brightness  in 
search  of  breakfast. 


CHAPTER  XXVn 
LEONORA'S  VOICE 

"  IV y/T  Y  theory,"  said  the  policeman,  "is  that 
IT  JL  collectin' — and  by  that  I  mean  all 
sorts  of  collection,  including  that  of  money — 
comes  from  a  craving  to  'ave  something  what 
other  people  'aven't  got.  It  comes  from  a  kind 
o'  pride  which  is  foolish.  Take  a  man  like 
Morgan,  for  instance.  Now  he  spent  his  life 
collecting  dollars,  and  he  never  once  stopped 
to  ask  'imself  why  he  was  doin'  it.  I  'card 
a  friend  of  mine,  a  socialist  he  was,  saying 
as  'ow  no  one  had  wasted  his  life  more  than 
Morgan.  At  the  time  it  struck  me  as  a  silly 
kind  of  thing  to  say.  But  now  I  seem  to  see 
it  in  a  different  light."  He  meditated  for 
some  minutes.  "It's  the  reason  why — that's 
what  we  'aven't  thought  of  near  enough." 

I  was  about  to  reply  when  a  motor-car 
stopped  before  us.  It  was  a  large  green 
limousine.  It  drew  up  suddenly,  with  a  scrap- 

254 


LEONORA'S  VOICE  255 

ing  of  tyres,  and  a  woman  got  out  of  it.  I 
recognized  her  at  once.  It  was  Leonora.  She 
was  wearing  a  motoring-coat  of  russet-brown 
material,  and  her  hat  was  tied  with  a  veil. 

"Alexis !"  she  exclaimed. 

Sarakoff  roused  himself  He  stood  up  and 
bowed. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?"  she  asked. 

"Leonora,"  he  said,  "I  am  so  glad  to  see  you. 
We  are  just  taking  the  air,  and  discussing  a 
few  matters  of  general  interest."  He  patted 
her  on  the  shoulder.  "I  congratulate  you, 
Leonora.  You  are  an  Immortal.  It  suits 
you  very  well." 

She  was  certainly  one  of  the  Immortals. 
The  stain  in  her  eyes  was  wonderfully  vivid, 
but  it  did  not  produce  a  displeasing  effect,  as  I 
had  fancied  it  would.  Indeed,  her  eyes  had 
lost  their  hard  restless  look,  and  in  place  of  it 
was  an  expression  of  bewilderment. 

"What  has  happened  to  me?"  she  exclaimed. 
"Alexis,  what  is  this  that  you  have  done  to 
me?" 

"What  I  told  you  about  at  the  Pyramid 
Restaurant.  You  have  got  the  germ  in  you 
and  now  you  are  immortal.  Sit  down,  Leon- 


256  THE  BLUE  GERM 

ora.  I  find  it  warmer  when  I  am  sitting. 
My  friend  and  I  had  to  leave  Harley  Street 
somewhat  hurriedly,  and  I  had  not  time  to 
dress." 

She  sat  down  and  loosened  her  veil. 

"Last  night  a  dreadful  thing  happened,"  she 
said.  "And  yet,  although  it  was  dreadful,  I 
do  not  feel  upset  about  it.  I  have  been  trying 
to  feel  upset — as  I  should — but  I  can't.  Let 
me  tell  you  about  it.  I  lay  down  yesterday 
afternoon  in  my  room  after  tea  to  rest.  I  al- 
ways do  that  when  I  can.  I  think  I  fell  asleep 
for  a  moment.  Then  I  felt  a  curious  light 
feeling,  as  if  I  had  suddenly  been  for  a  long 
holiday,  and  I  got  up.  Alexis,  when  I  saw 
myself  in  the  glass  I  was  horrified.  I  had  the 
Blue  Disease." 

"Of  course,"  said  Sarakoff.  "You  were 
bound  to  get  it.  You  knew  that." 

"I  didn't  know  what  to  do.  I  wasn't  very 
upset,  only  I  felt  something  dreadful  had 
happened.  Well,  I  went  to  the  Opera  as  usual 
and  everyone  was  very  sympathetic,  but  I  said 
I  was  all  right.  But  when  my  call  came,  I 
suddenly  knew — quite  calmly,  but  certainly — 
that  I  could  not  sing  properly.  I  went  on  the 


LEONORA'S  VOICE  257 

stage  and  began,  but  it  was  just  as  if  I  were 
singing  for  the  first  time  in  my  life.  They  had 
to  ring  the  curtain  down.  I  apologized.  I 
was  quite  calm  and  smiling.  But  there  the 
fact  remained — I  had  lost  my  voice.  I  had 
failec(  in  public." 

"Extraordinary,"  muttered  Sarakoff.  "Are 
you  sure  it  was  not  just  nervousness?" 

"No,  I'm  certain  of  that.  I  felt  absolutely 
self-possessed;  far  more  so  than  I  usually  do, 
and  that  is  saying  a  lot.  No,  my  voice  has 
gone.  The  Blue  Disease  has  destroyed  it. 
And  yet  I  somehow  don't  feel  any  resentment. 
I  don't  understand.  Richard,  tell  me  what 
has  happened." 

I  shook  my  head. 

"I  don't  know,"  I  said.  "I  can't  explain. 
The  germ  is  doing  things  that  I  never  fore- 
saw." 

"I  ought  to  be  furious  with  you,"  she  said. 

"Try  to  be — if  you  can,"  smiled  Sarakoff. 
"That's  one  of  the  strange  things.  I  can't  be 
furious.  I  have  only  two  emotions — perfect 
calmness,  or  violent,  horrible  fear." 

"Fear?"  she  exclaimed. 

"Yes,  fear  of  the  worst  kind  conceivable." 


258  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"I  understand  the  perfect  calmness,"  she 
said,  "but  the  fear — no." 

"You  will  understand  in  time." 

The  policeman  listened  to  our  conversation 
with  grave  attention.  Leonora  was  sitting  be- 
tween Sarakoff  and  me,  and  did  not  seem  to 
find  the  presence  of  the  visitor  surprising. 
The  green  limousine  stood  in  the  road  before 
us,  the  chauffeur  sitting  at  the  wheel  looking 
steadily  in  front  of  him.  The  Heath  seemed 
remarkably  empty.  The  mist  over  London 
was  lifting  under  the  influence  of  the  sun. 

I  was  revolving  in  my  mind  a  theory  as  to 
why  Leonora  had  lost  her  voice.  I  already 
knew  that  the  germ  produced  odd  changes  in 
the  realm  of  likes  and  dislikes.  I  remembered 
Sarakoff's  words  that  the  germ  was  killing 
desire.  My  thoughts  were  clear,  easy  and 
lucid,  and  the  problem  afforded  by  Leonora's 
singular  experience  gave  me  a  sense  of  quiet 
enjoyment.  If  the  germ  really  did  do  away 
with  desire,  why  should  it  at  the  same  time  do 
away  with  Leonora's  wonderful  voice?  I  re- 
called with  marvellous  facility  everything  I 
knew  about  her.  My  memory  supplied  me 
with  every  detail  at  the  dinner  of  the  Pyramid 


LEONORA'S  VOICE  259 

Restaurant.  The  words  of  Sarakoff,  which 
had  at  the  time  seemed  coarse,  came  back  to  me. 
He  had  called  her  a  vain  ambitious  cold- 
hearted  woman,  who  thought  that  her  voice 
and  her  beauty  could  not  be  beaten. 

My  reflections  were  interrupted  by  the  po- 
liceman. 

''The  lady,"  he  remarked,  "has  lost  her  voice 
sudden-like.  Now  I  lost  my  'abit  of  arresting 
people  sudden-like  too.  I  lost  it  this  morning. 
Any  other  time  I  should  have  taken  the  gentle- 
man in  the  dressing-gown  in  charge  for  being 
improperly  dressed.  But  this  morning  it  don't 
come  natural  to  me.  If  he  wants  to  wear  a 
dressing-gown  on  the  Spaniard's  Walk,  he  pre- 
sumably 'as  his  own  reasons.  It  don't  concern 
me." 

"It  seems  to  me  that  the  germ  takes  ambi- 
tion out  of  us,"  said  Sarakoff. 

"Ambition?"  said  the  policeman.  "No, 
that  ain't  right.  I've  got  ambition  still — only 
it's  a  different  kind  of  ambition." 

"I  have  no  ambition  now,"  said  Leonora  at 
length.  "Alexis  is  right.  This  malady  has 
taken  the  ambition  out  of  me.  I  may  be 
Immortal,  but  if  I  am,  then  I  am  an  Immortal 


260  THE  BLUE  GERM 

without  ambition.  I  seem  to  be  lost,  to  be 
suddenly  diffused  into  space  or  time,  to  be  a 
kind  of  vapour.  Something  has  dissolved  in 
me — something  hard,  bright,  alert.  I  do  not 
know  why  I  am  here.  The  car  came  round 
as  usual  to  take  me  for  my  morning  run.  I  got 
in — why  I  don't  know." 

Sarakoff  was  studying  her  attentively. 

"It  is  very  strange,"  he  said.  "You  used 
to  arouse  a  feeling  of  strength  and  determina- 
tion in  me,  Leonora.  You  used  to  stimulate 
me  intensely.  This  morning  I  only  feel  one 
thing  about  you." 

"What  is  that?" 

"I  feel  that  I  have  cheated  you." 

"Cheated  her?"  exclaimed  the  policeman. 
"How  do  you  come  to  that  conclusion?" 

"I've  destroyed  the  one  thing  that  was  her- 
self— I've  destroyed  desire  in  her.  I've  left 
her  a  mind  devoid  of  all  values  tacked  on  to  a 
body  that  no  longer  interests  her.  For  what 
was  Leonora,  who  filled  the  hearts  of  men  with 
madness,  but  an  incarnation  of  desire?" 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 
THE  KILLING  OF  DESIRE 

WE  drove  in  Leonora's  car  through  Lon- 
don. The  streets  were  crowded.  I  do 
not  think  that  much  routine  work  was  done 
that  day.  People  formed  little  crowds  on  the 
pavements,  and  at  Oxford  Circus  someone  was 
speaking  to  a  large  concourse  from  the  seat  of 
a  motor  lorry. 

Leonora  seemed  extraordinarily  apathetic. 
She  leaned  back  in  the  car  and  seemed  uninter- 
ested in  the  passing  scene.  Sarakoff ,  wrapped 
up  in  a  fur  rug,  stared  dreamily  in  front  of  him. 
As  far  as  I  can  recall  them,  my  feelings  during 
that  swift  tour  of  London  were  vague.  The 
buildings,  the  people,  the  familiar  signs  in  the 
streets,  the  shop  windows,  all  seemed  to  have 
lost  in  some  degree  the  quality  of  reality.  I 
was  detached  from  them;  and  whenever  I  made 
an  effort  to  rouse  myself,  the  ugliness  and 
meaninglessness  of  everything  I  saw  seemed 
strangely  emphasized. 

261 


262  THE  BLUE  GERM 

When  we  reached  Harley  Street  we  found 
my  house  little  damaged,  save  for  a  broken 
panel  in  the  green  front  door  and  a  few  panes 
of  glass  smashed  in  the  lower  windows.  The 
house  was  empty.  The  servants  had  vanished. 

Leonora  said  she  wished  to  go  home  and  she 
drove  off  in  the  car.  Sarakoff  did  not  even 
wave  farewell  to  her,  but  went  straight  up  to 
his  room  and  lay  down  on  the  bed.  I  went  into 
the  study  and  sat  in  my  chair  by  the  fireplace. 

I  was  roused  by  the  opening  of  the  door,  and 
looking  up  I  saw  a  face  that  I  recognized,  but 
for  the  moment  I  could  not  fit  a  name  to  it. 
My  visitor  came  in  calmly,  and  sat  down  op- 
posite me. 

"My  name  is  Thornduck,"  he  said.  "I 
came  to  consult  you  about  my  health  a  few 
days  ago." 

"I  remember,"  I  said. 

"Your  front  door  was  open  so  I  walked  in." 

I  nodded.  His  eyes,  stained  with  blue, 
rested  on  me. 

"I  have  been  thinking,"  he  said.  "It  struck 
me  that  there  was  something  you  forgot  to  tell 
me  the  other  day." 

I  nodded  again. 


THE  KILLING  OF  DESIRE  263 

"You  began,  if  you  remember,  by  asking  me 
if  I  believed  in  miracles.  That  set  me  think- 
ing, and  as  I  saw  your  name  in  the  paper,  con- 
nected with  the  Blue  Disease,  I  knew  you  were 
a  miracle-monger.  How  did  you  do  it?" 

"I  don't  know.  It  was  all  due  to  my  black 
cat.  Tripped  over  it,  got  concussion  and  re- 
gained my  senses  with  the  idea  that  led  up  to 
the  germ." 

He  smiled. 

"A  black  cat,"  he  mused.  "I  wonder  if  it's 
all  black  magic?" 

"That's  what  Hammer  suggested.  I  don't 
know  what  kind  of  magic  it  is." 

"Of  course  it  is  magic,"  said  Thornduck. 

"Magic?" 

"Of  course.  Have  you  even  thought  what 
kind  of  magic  it  is?" 

"No." 

"A  big  magic,  such  as  you  have  worked,  is 
just  bringing  the  distant  future  into  the  pres- 
ent with  a  rush." 

"Sarakoff  had  some  such  idea,"  I  murmured. 
"He  spoke  of  anticipating  our  evolution  by 
centuries  at  one  stroke." 

"Exactly.     That's    magic.     The    question 


264  THE  BLUE  GERM 

remains — is  it  black  magic?"  He  crossed  his 
thin  legs  and  leaned  back  in  the  chair.  "I 
got  the  Blue  Disease  the  day  before  yesterday 
and  since  then  I've  thought  more  than  I  have 
ever  done  in  all  my  life.  When  I  read  in  the 
paper  this  morning  that  you  said  the  Blue 
Disease  conferred  immortality  on  people  I  was 
not  surprised.  I  had  come  to  the  same  con- 
clusion in  a  roundabout  way.  But  I  want  to 
ask  you  one  question.  Did  you  know  before- 
hand that  it  killed  desire?"' 

"No.  Neither  Sarakoff  nor  I  foresaw 
that." 

"Well,  if  you  had  let  me  into  your  confidence 
before  I  could  have  told  you  that  right  away  in 
the  general  principle  contained  in  the  saying 
that  you  can't  eat  your  cake  and  have  it.  It's 
just  another  aspect  of  the  law  of  the  conserva- 
tion of  energy,  isn't  it?" 

"I  always  had  a  doubt " 

"Naturally.  It's  intuitional.  The  laws  of 
the  universe  are  just  intuitions  put  into  words. 
You've  carried  out  an  enormous  spiritual  ex- 
periment to  prove  what  all  religions  have  al- 
ways asserted  however  obscurely.  All  religion 
teaches  that  you  can't  eat  your  cake  and  have 


THE  KILLING  OF  DESIRE  265 

it.  That's  the  essence  of  religion,  and  you, 
formerly  a  cut-and-dried  scientist,  have  gone 
and  proved  it  to  the  whole  world  for  eternity. 
Rather  odd,  isn't  it?" 

I  watched  his  face  with  interest.  It  was 
thin  and  the  complexion  was  transparent. 
His  eyes,  wonderfully  wide  and  brilliantly 
stained  by  the  germ,  produced  in  me  a  new  sen- 
sation. It  was  akin  to  enthusiasm,  but  in  it 
was  something  of  love,  such  as  I  had  never  ex- 
perienced for  any  man.  I  became  uplifted. 
My  whole  being  began  to  vibrate  to  some 
strangely  delicate  and  exquisite  influence,  and 
I  knew  that  Thornduck  was  the  medium 
through  which  these  impulses  reached  me.  It 
was  not  his  words  but  the  atmosphere  round 
him  that  raised  me  temporarily  to  this  degree 
of  receptivity. 

"It  is  odd,"  I  said. 

He  continued  to  look  at  me. 

"You  have  a  message  for  me?"  I  observed 
at  last. 

"Why,  yes,  I  have,"  he  replied.  "You  have 
done  wrong,  Harden.  You  have  worked  black 
magic,  and  it  will  fail  out  of  sheer  necessity." 

"Tell  me  what  I  have  done." 


266  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"You  have  artificially  produced  a  condition 
of  life  many  ages  before  humanity  is  ready 
to  receive  it.  The  body  of  desire  is  being 
worked  up  by  endless  labour  into  something 
more  delicate  and  sensitive — into  a  transmu- 
tation that  we  can  only  dimly  understand. 
At  present  the  whole  plot  of  life  is  based 
on  the  principle  of  desire  and  in  this  way 
people  are  kept  busy,  constantly  spurred  on 
to  thought  and  activity  by  essential^  selfish 
motives.  It  is  only  in  abstract  thought  that 
the  selfless  ideal  has  a  real  place  as  yet,  but  the 
very  fact  that  it  is  there  shows  what  lies  at  the 
top  of  the  ladder  that  humanity  is  so  pain- 
fully climbing.  As  long  as  desire  is  the  plot  of 
life,  death  is  necessary,  for  its  terrible  shadow 
sharpens  desire  and  makes  the  prizes  more 
alluring  and  the  struggle  more  desperate. 
And  so  man  goes  on,  ceaselessly  active  and 
striving,  for  without  activity  and  striving  there 
is  no  perfecting  of  the  instrument.  You  can't 
have  upward  progress  in  conditions  of  stag- 
nation. All  that  strange  incredible  side  of 
life,  called  the  Devil,  is  the  inner  plot  of  life 
that  makes  the  wheels  go  round  and  evolution 
possible.  It  is  vitally  necessary  to  keep  the 


THE  KILLING  OF  DESIRE  267 

vast  machinery  running  at  the  present  level  of 
evolution.  Desire  is  the  furnace  of  the  engine- 
house.  The  wheels  go  round  and  the  fabric  is 
slowly  and  intricately  spun  and  only  pessimists 
and  bigots  fail  to  see  evidence  of  any  purpose 
in  it  all.  Now  what  has  your  Blue  Disease 
done?  It  has  taken  the  whole  plot  out  of  life 
at  its  present  stage  of  development  at  one  fell 
swoop.  It  has  killed  Desire — put  out  the 
furnace  before  the  pattern  in  the  fabric  is 
nearly  complete." 

"But  I  never  could  see  that,  Thornduck. 
How  could  I  foresee  that?" 

"If  you  had  had  a  grain  of  vision  you  would 
have  known  that  you  couldn't  give  humanity 
the  gift  of  immortality  without  some  com- 
pensatory loss.  The  law  of  compensation  is 
as  sure  as  the  law  of  gravity — you  ought  to 
know  that." 

"I  had  dim  feelings — I  knew  Sarakoff  was 
wrong,  with  his  dream  of  physical  bliss — but 
how  could  I  foresee  that  desire  would  go?" 

"As  a  mere  scientist,  test-tube  in  hand,  you 
couldn't.  But  you're  better  than  that. 
You've  got  a  glimmering  of  moral  imagination 
in  you." 


268  THE  BLUE  GERM 

He  fell  into  a  reverie. 

"You  are  keeping  something  back.  Tell  me 
plainly  what  you  mean,"  I  asked. 

"Don't  you  see  that  if  the  germ  lasts  any 
length  of  time,"  he  said,  "the  machinery  will 
run  down  and — stop?" 


CHAPTER  XXIX 
THE  REVOLT  OF  THE  YOUNG 

AMID  all  the  strife  and  clamour  of  the  next 
few  days  one  thing  stands  out  now  in  my 
mind  with  sinister  radiance.  It  is  that  pe- 
culiar form  of  lawlessness  which  broke  out  and 
had  as  its  object  the  destruction  of  the  old. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  idea  of  immor- 
tality got  hold  of  people  and  carried  them  away 
completely.  The  daily  miracles  that  were  oc- 
curring of  the  renewal  of  health  and  vigour, 
the  cure  of  disease  and  the  passing  of  those 
infirmities  that  are  associated  with  advancing 
years,  impressed  the  popular  imagination 
deeply.  As  a  result  there  grew  up  a  wide- 
spread discontent  and  bitterness.  The  young 
— those  who  were  as  yet  free  from  the  germ — 
conceived  in  their  hearts  that  an  immense  in- 
justice had  been  done  to  them. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  life  at  that  time 
had  taken  on  a  strange  and  abnormal  aspect. 
Its  horizons  had  been  suddenly  altered  by  the 
germ.  Although  breadth  had  been  given  to  it 

269 


270  THE  BLUE  GERM 

from  the  point  of  years,  a  curious  contraction 
had  appeared  at  the  same  time.  It  was  a 
contraction  felt  most  acutely  by  those  in  in- 
ferior positions.  It  was  a  contraction  that 
owed  its  existence  to  the  sense  of  being  shut  in 
eternally  by  those  in  higher  positions,  whom 
death  no  longer  would  remove  at  convenient 
intervals.  The  student  felt  it  as  he  looked  at 
his  professor.  The  clerk  felt  it  as  he  looked  at 
his  manager.  The  subaltern  felt  it  as  he 
looked  at  his  colonel.  The  daughter  felt  it 
when  she  looked  at  her  mother,  and  the  son 
when  he  looked  at  his  father.  The  germ  had 
given  simultaneously  a  tremendous  blow  to 
freedom,  and  a  tremendous  impetus  to  free- 
dom. 

Thus,  perhaps  for  the  first  time  in  history, 
there  swiftly  began  an  accumulation  and  con- 
centration of  those  forces  of  discontent  which, 
in  normal  times,  only  manifest  themselves  here 
and  there  in  the  relationships  between  old  and 
young  men,  and  are  regarded  with  good- 
humoured  patience.  A  kind  of  war  broke  out 
all  over  the  country. 

This  war  was  terrible  in  its  nature.  All  the 
secret  weariness  and  unspoken  bitterness  of 


THE  REVOLT  OF  THE  YOUNG      271 

the  younger  generation  found  a  sudden  outlet. 
Goaded  to  madness  by  the  prospect  of  a  future 
of  continual  repression,  in  which  the  old  would 
exercise  an  undiminished  authority,  the 
younger  men  and  women  plunged  into  a  form 
of  excess  over  which  a  veil  must  be  drawn. 
.  .  .  There  is  only  one  thing  which  can  be  re- 
corded in  their  favour.  Chloroform  and 
drowning  appear  to  have  been  the  methods 
most  often  used,  and  they  are  perhaps  merciful 
ways  of  death.  The  great  London  clubs  be- 
came sepulchres.  All  people  who  had  re- 
ceived the  highest  distinctions  and  honours, 
whose  names  were  household  words,  were  re- 
moved with  ruthless  determination.  Scarcely 
a  single  well-known  man  or  woman  of  the  older 
generation,  whose  name  was  honoured  in  sci- 
ence, literature,  art,  business  or  politics,  was 
spared.  All  aged  and  wealthy  people  per- 
ished. A  clean  sweep  was  made,  and  made 
with  a  decision  and  unanimity  that  was  in- 
credible. 

It  is  painful  now  to  recall  the  terrible  nature 
of  that  civil  war.  It  lasted  only  a  short  time, 
but  it  opened  my  eyes  to  the  inner  plan  upon 
which  mortal  man  is  based.  For  I  am  com- 


272  THE  BLUE  GERM 

pelled  to  admit  that  this  widespread  murder, 
that  suddenly  flashed  into  being,  was  founded 
upon  impulses  that  lie  deep  in  man's  heart. 
They  were  those  giant  impulses  that  lie  behind 
growth,  and  the  effect  of  the  germ  was  merely 
to  throw  them  suddenly  into  the  broad  light  of 
day,  unchained,  grim  and  implacable. 

Fortunately,  the  germ  spread  steadily  and 
quickly,  killing  as  it  did  so  all  hate  and  desire. 

Jason,  still  free  from  the  germ,  flung  him- 
self into  the  general  uproar  with  extraordi- 
nary vigour.  It  was  clear  that  he  thought 
the  great  opportunity  had  come  which  would 
eventually  bring  him  to  the  height  of  his  power. 
To  check  the  growing  lawlessness  and  murder 
he  advocated  a  new  adjustment  of  property. 
Big  meetings  were  held  in  the  public  spaces  of 
London,  and  some  wild  ideas  were  formulated. 

In  the  meantime  the  medical  profession,  as 
far  as  the  men  yet  free  from  the  germ  were 
concerned,  continued  its  work  in  a  dull  me- 
chanical way.  Each  day  the  number  of  pa- 
tients fell  lower,  as  the  Blue  Disease  slowly 
spread.  Hammer,  himself  an  Immortal,  came 
to  see  me  once,  but  only  to  speak  of  the  neces- 
sity for  the  immediate  simplification  of  houses. 


THE  REVOIT  OF  THE  YOUNG      273 

It  was  odd  to  observe  how,  once  a  man  became 
infected,  his  former  interests  and  anxieties  fell 
away  from  him  like  an  old  garment.  In  Har- 
ley  Street  an  attitude  of  stubborn  disbelief  con- 
tinued amongst  those  still  mortal.  There  is 
something  magnificent  in  that  adamantine 
spirit  which  refuses  to  recognize  the  new,  even 
though  it  moves  with  ever-increasing  distinct- 
ness before  the  very  eyes  of  the  deniers.  I  was 
not  surprised.  I  was  familiar  with  medical 
men. 

Meanwhile  the  Royal  Family  became  in- 
fected by  the  germ,  and  passed  out  of  the  pub- 
lic eye.  The  Prime  Minister  became  a  victim 
and  vanished.  For  once  a  man  had  the  germ 
in  his  system,  as  far  as  externals  were  con- 
cerned, he  almost  ceased  to  exist. 

The  infection  of  Jason  occurred  in  my  pres- 
ence. He  had  come  in  to  explain  to  me  a 
proposed  line  of  campaign  as  regards  the  mar- 
riage laws. 

"This  germ  of  yours  has  given  people  the 
courage  to  think!"  he  exclaimed.  "It  is  ex- 
traordinary how  timid  people  were  in  thinking. 
It  has  launched  them  out,  and  now  is  the  time 
to  bring  in  new  proposals." 


274.  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"In  all  your  calculations,  you  omit  to  recol- 
lect the  effects  of  the  germ,"  I  said.  "Surely 
you  have  seen  by  now  that  it  changes  human 
nature  totally?" 

He  stared  at  me  uncomprehendingly.  He 
was  one  of  those  men,  so  common  in  public 
life,  who  have  no  power  of  understanding  what 
they  themselves  have  not  experienced.  He 
continued  with  undiminished  enthusiasm.. 

"We  must  have  marriage  contracts  for  defi- 
nite periods.  With  the  increased  state  of 
health,  and  the  full  span  of  life  confronting 
every  man,  we  must  face  the  problem  squarely. 
Now  what  stands  in  our  way?" 

He  got  up  and  went  to  the  window.  It  was 
a  dull  foggy  day,  and  there  was  frost  on  the 
ground.  He  stared  outside  for  some  mo- 
ments. 

"What,  I  repeat,  stands  in  our  way?" 

"Well?" 

"The  Church,  and  a  mass  of  superstitions 
that  we  have  inherited  from  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. That's  what  stands  in  our  way.  We 
still  attach  more  value  to  the  Old  Testament 
than  to  the  New.  The  Scotch,  for  example, 


THE  REVOLT  OF  THE  YOUNG       275 

like  the  Jews.  .  .  .  Yes,  of  course.  .  .  .  What 
was  I  saying?" 

He  left  the  window  and  sat  down  once  more 
before  me,  moving  rather  listlessly. 

"Yes,  Harden.  Of  course.  That's  what  it 
is,  isn't  it?  Do  you  remember — diddle — yes, 
it  was  diddle,  diddle " 

He  paused  and  frowned. 

"Hey  diddle  diddle,  the  cat  and  the  fiddle," 
he  muttered.  "Yes — hey,  diddle,  diddle,  did- 
dle—that's what  it  is,  isn't  it?" 

"Of  course,"  I  said.     "It's  all  really  that." 

"Just  diddle,  diddle,  diddle?" 

"Yes— if  you  like." 

"That  is  substituting  diddle  for  riddle,"  he 
said  earnestly.  He  frowned  again  and  passed 
his  hand  across  his  eyes. 

"Yes,"  I  said  calmly.  "It's  going  a  step 
up." 

I  suppose  about  half  an  hour  passed  before 
either  of  us  spoke  again  after  this  extraordi- 
nary termination  to  our  conversation.  In  ab- 
solute silence  we  sat  facing  one  another  and 
during  that  time  I  saw  the  blue  stain  growing 
clearer  and  clearer  in  Jason's  eyes.  At  last 
he  rose. 


276  THE  BLUE  GERM 

"It's  very  odd,"  he  said.  "Tell  me,  were 
you  like  this  ?" 

"How  do  you  feel?" 

"As  if  I  had  been  drunk  and  suddenly  had 
been  made  sober.  I  will  leave  you.  I  want  to 
think.  I  will  go  down  to  the  country." 

"And  your  papers?" 

"We  must  have  a  new  Press,"  he  said,  and 
left  the  room. 

That  same  day  the  great  railway  accident 
occurred  just  outside  London  that  led  to  the 
death  of  sixty  people,  many  of  them  Immor- 
tals. Its  effect  on  public  imagination  was  pro- 
found. All  dangerous  enterprises  became  in- 
vested with  a  terrible  radiance.  Men  asked 
themselves  if,  in  face  of  a  future  of  health,  it 
was  worth  risking  life  in  rashness  of  any  de- 
scription, and  gradually  traffic  came  to  a  stand- 
still. Long  before  the  germ  had  infected 
the  whole  populace  all  activities  fraught  with 
danger  had  ceased.  The  coal  mines  were 
abandoned.  The  railways  were  silent. 
The  streets  of  London  became  empty  of 
traffic. 


THE  REVOLT  OP  THE  YOUNG      277 

Blue-stained  people  began  to  throng  the 
streets  of  London  in  vast  masses,  moving  to 
and  fro  without  aim  or  purpose,  perfectly 
orderly,  vacant,  lost — like  SarakofFs  butter- 
flies. .  .  . 

Thornduck  came  to  see  me  one  day  when 
the  reign  of  the  germ  was  practically  absolute 
in  London. 

"They  are  wandering  into  the  country  in 
thousands,"  he  remarked.  "They  have  lost  all 
sense  of  home  and  possession.  They  are 
vague,  trying  to  form  an  ideal  socialistic  com- 
munity. What  a  mess  your  germ  is  making  of 
life !  They're  not  ready  for  it.  The  question 
is  whether  they  will  rouse  themselves  to  con- 
sider the  food  question." 

"We  need  scarcely  any  food,"  I  replied. 
"I've  had  nothing  to  eat  to-day." 

"Nor  I.  But  since  we're  still  linked  up  to 
physical  bodies  we  must  require  some  nourish- 
ment." 

"I  have  eaten  two  biscuits  and  a  little  cheese 
in  the  last  twenty-four  hours.  Surely  you 
don't  think  that  food  is  to  be  a  serious  problem 
under  such  circumstances?" 

"It  might  be.     You  must  remember  that 


278  THE  BLUE  GERM 

initiative  is  now  destroyed  in  the  vast  majority 
of  people.  They  may  permit  themselves  to  die 
of  inanition.  Can  you  say  you  have  an  appe- 
tite now?" 

I  reflected  for  some  time,  striving  to  recall 
the  feeling  of  hunger  that  belonged  to  the  days 
of  desire. 

"No.     I  have  no  appetite." 

"Think  carefully.  In  place  of  appetite  have 
you  no  tendencies?" 

"I  feel  a  kind  of  lethargy,"  I  said  at  last. 
"I  felt  it  yesterday  and  to-day  it  is  stronger." 

"As  if  you  wished  to  sleep?" 

"Not  exactly.  But  it  is  akin  to  that.  I 
have  some  difficulty  in  keeping  my  attention  on 
things.  There  is  a  kind  of  pull  within  me  away 
from — away  from  reality." 

He  nodded. 

"I  went  in  to  see  your  Russian  friend.  He's 
upstairs.  He  is  not  exactly  asleep.  He  is 
more  like  a  man  partially  under  the  influence  of 
a  drug." 

"I  will  go  and  see  him,"  I  said. 

Sarakoff  was  lying  on  the  bed  with  his  eyes 
shut.  He  was  breathing  quietly.  His  eyelids 
quivered,  as  if  they  might  open  at  any  moment, 


THE  REVOLT  OF  THE  YOUNG      279 

but  my  entrance  did  not  rouse  him.  His  limbs 
were  relaxed.  I  spoke  to  him  and  tried  to 
wake  him,  without  result.  Then  I  remem- 
bered how  I  had  stumbled  across  the  body  of 
Herbert  Wain  in  the  Park  some  days  ago. 
He  had  seemed  to  be  in  a  strange  kind  of  sleep. 
I  sat  down  on  the  bed  and  stared  at  the  mo- 
tionless figure  of  the  Russian.  There  was 
something  strangely  pathetic  in  his  pose.  His 
rough  hair  and  black  beard,  his  keen  aquiline 
face  seemed  weirdly  out  of  keeping  with  his 
helpless  state.  Here  lay  the  man  whose  brain 
had  once  teemed  with  ambitious  desires,  relaxed 
and  limp  like  a  baby,  while  the  nails  of  his 
hands,  turquoise  blue,  bore  silent  witness  to 
his  great  experiment  on  humanity.  Had  it 
failed?  Where  was  all  that  marvellous  vision 
of  physical  happiness  that  had  haunted  him? 
The  streets  of  London  were  filled  with  people, 
no  longer  working,  no  longer  crying  or  weep- 
ing, but  moving  aimlessly,  like  people  in  a 
dream.  Were  they  happy?  I  moved  to  the 
window  and  drew  down  the  blind. 

"This  may  be  the  end,"  I  thought.  "The 
germ  will  be  sweeping  through  France  now. 
It  may  be  the  end  of  all  things." 


280  THE  BLUE  GERM 

I  rejoined  Thornduck  in  the  study. 

"Sarakoff  is  in  a  kind  of  trance,"  I  observed. 
"What  do  you  make  of  it?" 

"Isn't  it  natural?"  he  asked.  "What  kind 
of  a  man  was  he?  What  motives  did  he  work 
on?  Just  think  what  the  killing  of  desire 
means.  All  those  things  that  depended  on 
worldly  ambition,  self-gratification,  physical 
pleasure,  conceit,  lust,  hatred,  passion,  egotism, 
selfishness,  vanity,  avarice,  sensuality  and  so 
on,  are  undermined  and  rendered  paralysed  by 
the  germ.  What  remains?  Why,  in  most 
people,  practically  nothing  remains." 

"Even  so,"  I  said,  "I  don't  see  why  Sarakoff 
should  go  into  a  trance." 

"He's  gone  into  a  trance  simply  because 
there's  not  enough  left  in  him  to  constitute  an 
individuality.  The  germ  has  taken  the  inside 
clean  out  of  him.  He's  just  an  immortal  shell 


now." 


"Then  do  you  think ?" 

I  stared  at  him  wonderingly. 

"I  think  that  the  germ  will  send  most  of  the 
world  to  sleep." 

He  got  up  and  walked  to  the  window.  The 
clear  noonday  light  fell  on  his  thin  sensitive 


THE  REVOLT  OF  THE  YOUNG      281 

face  and  accentuated  the  pallor  of  his  skin. 

"All  those  who  are  bound  on  the  wheel  of 
desire  will  fall  asleep,"  he  murmured.  A  smile 
flickered  on  his  lips  and  he  turned  and  looked 
at  me. 

"Harden,"  he  said,  "it's  really  very  funny. 
It's  infinitely  humorous,  isn't  it?" 

"I  see  nothing  humorous  in  anything,"  I  re- 
plied. "I've  lost  all  sense  of  humour." 

He  raised  his  eyebrows. 

"Of  humour?"  he  queried.  "Surely  not. 
Humour  is  surely  immortal." 


CHAPTER  XXX 

THE   GREAT   SLEEP 

ON  that  day  the  animals  in  London  fell 
asleep  with  few  exceptions.  The  excep- 
tions were,  I  believe,  all  dogs.  I  do  not  pre- 
tend to  explain  how  it  came  about  that  dogs 
remained  awake  longer  than  other  animals. 
The  reason  may  be  that  dogs  have  some  quality 
in  them  which  is  superior  even  to  the  qualities 
found  in  man,  for  there  is  a  sweetness  in  the 
nature  of  dogs  that  is  rare  in  men  and  women. 

Many  horses  were  overcome  in  the  streets 
and  lay  down  where  they  were.  No  attempt 
was  made  to  remove  them.  They  were  left, 
stretched  out  on  their  side,  apparently  uncon- 
scious. 

And  many  thousands  of  men  and  women  fell 
asleep.  In  some  cases  men  were  overcome  by 
the  sleep  before  their  dogs,  which  has  always 
seemed  strange  to  me.  It  was  Thornduck  who 
told  me  this,  for  he  remained  awake  during  this 
period  that  the  germ  reigned  supreme.  He 

282 


THE  GREAT  SLEEP  283 

tells  me  that  I  fell  asleep  the  next  evening  in 
my  chair  in  the  study  and  that  he  carried  me 
upstairs  to  my  room.  I  had  just  returned 
from  visiting  Leonora,  whom  I  had  found  un- 
conscious. He  made  a  tour  of  London  next 
morning.  In  the  City  there  was  a  profound 
stillness. 

In  the  West  End  matters  were  much  the 
same.  In  Cavendish  Square  he  entered  many 
houses  and  found  silence  and  sleep  within. 
Everywhere  doors  and  windows  were  wide 
open,  giving  access  to  any  who  might  desire  it. 
He  visited  the  Houses  of  Parliament  only  to 
find  a  few  comatose  blue-stained  men  lying 
about  on  the  benches.  For  the  sleep  had  over- 
taken people  by  stealth.  One  day,  passing  by 
the  Zoo,  he  had  climbed  the  fence  and  made 
an  inspection  of  the  inmates.  With  the  ex- 
ception of  an  elephant  that  was  nodding 
drowsily,  the  animals  lay  motionless  in  their 
cages,  deep  in  the  trance  that  the  germ  induced. 

From  time  to  time  he  met  a  man  or  woman 
awake  like  himself  and  stopped  to  talk.  Those 
who  still  retained  sufficient  individuality  to 
continue  existence  were  the  strangest  mixture 
of  folk,  for  they  were  of  every  class,  many 


284  THE  BLUE  GERM 

of  them  being  little  better  than  beggars.  They 
were  people  in  whom  the  desire  of  life  played  a 
minor  part.  They  were  those  people  who  are 
commonly  regarded  as  being  failures,  people 
who  live  and  die  unknown  to  the  world.  They 
were  those  people  who  devote  themselves  to 
an  obscure  existence,  shun  the  rewards  of  suc- 
cessful careers,  and  are  ridiculed  by  all  prosper- 
ous individuals.  It  seems  that  Thornduck  was 
instrumental  in  calling  a  meeting  of  these  peo- 
ple at  St.  Paul's.  There  were  about  two  thou- 
sand of  them  in  all,  but  many  in  the  outlying 
suburbs  remained  ignorant  of  the  meeting,  and 
Thornduck  considers  that  in  the  London  dis- 
trict alone  there  must  have  been  some  thou- 
sands who  did  not  attend.  At  the  meeting, 
which  must  have  been  the  strangest  in  all  his- 
tory, the  question  of  the  future  was  discussed. 
Many  believed  that  the  effect  of  the  germ  on 
those  in  the  great  sleep  would  ultimately  lead 
to  a  cessation  of  life  owing  to  starvation. 
Thornduck  held  that  the  germ  would  pass, 
arguing  on  principles  that  were  so  unscientific 
that  I  refrain  from  giving  them.  Eventually 
it  appears  that  a  decision  was  reached  to  leave 
London  on  a  certain  date  and  migrate  south- 


THE  GREAT  SLEEP  285 

wards  in  search  of  a  region  where  a  colony 
might  be  founded  under  laws  and  customs  suit- 
able for  Immortals.  Thornduck  says  that 
there  was  one  thing  that  struck  him  very  forci- 
bly at  the  meeting  at  St  Paul's.  All  the  peo- 
ple gathered  there  had  about  them  a  certain 
sweetness  and  strength,  which,  although  it  was 
very  noticeable,  escaped  his  powers  of  analysis. 

He  attempted  on  several  occasions  to  get 
into  telegraphic  communication  with  the  Con- 
tinent, but  failed.  In  his  wanderings  he  en- 
tered many  homes,  always  being  careful  to  lay 
out  at  full  length  any  of  the  unconscious  in- 
mates who  were  asleep  on  chairs,  for  he  feared 
that  they  might  come  to  harm,  and  that  their 
limbs  might  become  stiffened  into  unnatural 
postures. 

All  the  time  he  had  a  firm  conviction  that  the 
phase  of  sleep  was  temporary.  He  himself 
had  moments  in  which  a  slight  drowsiness  over- 
took him,  but  he  never  lost  the  enhanced  power 
of  thought  that  I  had  experienced  in  the  early 
stages  of  the  Blue  Disease.  So  absolute  was 
his  conviction  that  a  general  awakening  would 
come  about  that  he  began  to  busy  his  mind 
with  the  question  as  to  what  he  could  do,  in 


286  THE  BLUE  GERM 

conjunction  with  the  other  Immortals  who 
were  still  awake,  to  benefit  humanity  when  it 
should  emerge  from  the  trance.  This  question 
was  discussed  continually.  Many  thought  that 
they  should  burn  all  records,  financial,  political, 
governmental  and  private,  so  that  some  oppor- 
tunity of  starting  afresh  might  be  given  to 
mankind,  enslaved  to  the  past  and  fettered  by 
law  and  custom.  But  the  danger  of  chaos 
resulting  from  such  a  step  deterred  him.  He 
confessed  that  the  more  he  thought  on  the 
subject  the  more  clearly  he  saw  that  under 
the  circumstances  belonging  to  its  stage  of 
evolution,  the  organization  of  the  world  was 
suited  to  the  race  that  inhabited  it.  All 
change,  he  saw,  had  to  come  from  within,  and 
that  to  alter  external  conditions  suddenly 
and  artificially  might  do  incredible  harm.  We 
were  constructed  to  develop  against  resistance, 
and  to  remove  such  resistances  before  they  had 
been  overcome  naturally  was  to  tamper  with 
the  inner  laws  of  life.  And  so,  after  long  dis- 
cussion, they  did  nothing.  .  .  . 

It  is  curious  to  reflect  that  they,  earnest  men 
devoted  to  progress,  having  at  their  mercy  the 
machinery  of  existence,  walked  through  the 


THE  GREAT  SLEEP  287 

midst  of  sleeping  London  and  did  nothing. 
But  then  none  of  them  were  fanatics,  for 
Thornduck  stated  that  the  fanatics  fell  early  to 
sleep,  thus  proving  that  the  motives  behind 
their  fanaticism  were  egotistical,  and  a  source 
of  satisfaction  to  themselves.  He  made  a 
point  of  visiting  the  homes  of  some  of  them. 
Philanthropists,  too,  succumbed  early. 

On  the  seventh  day  after  the  great  sleep  had 
overtaken  London  the  effects  of  the  germ 
began  to  wane.  Those  who  had  fallen  asleep 
latest  were  the  earliest  to  open  their  eyes.  The 
blue  stain  rapidly  vanished  from  eyes,  skin  and 
nails.  ...  I  regained  my  waking  sense  on  the 
evening  of  the  seventh  day  and  found  myself 
in  a  small  country  cottage  whither  Thornduck 
had  borne  me  in  a  motor-car,  fearing  lest 
awakened  London  might  seek  some  revenge  on 
the  discoverers  of  the  germ.  Sarakoff  lay  on 
a  couch  beside  me,  still  fast  asleep. 

The  first  clear  idea  that  came  to  me  con- 
cerned Alice  Annot.  I  determined  to  go  to 
her  at  once.  Then  I  remembered  with  vex- 
ation that  I  had  wantonly  smashed  two  vases 
worth  ten  pounds  apiece. 

I  struggled  to  my  feet.     My  hands  were  thin 


288  THE  BLUE  GERM 

and  wasted.  I  was  ravenous  with  hunger.  I 
felt  giddy. 

"What's  the  time?"  I  called  confusedly. 
"It  must  be  very  late.  Wake  up !" 

And  I  stooped  down  and  began  to  shake 
Sarakoff  violently. 


THE  END 


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